


Shadows (A Severus Snape Fanfiction)

by ifelephantscouldfly



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts Era, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:35:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 46,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29394171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifelephantscouldfly/pseuds/ifelephantscouldfly
Summary: Asha's life makes no sense, but the more she unravels about her past, the darker and more complex things become. All these secrets and lies are beginning to take their toll and sooner or later she's going to have to start letting people in.(Severus Snape X OC, 'realistic', slowburner, takes place during Harry's years at Hogwarts)If you're here for a journey, this story's for you...
Relationships: Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 14





	1. A Sinking Ship

**Author's Note:**

> Helloo I'm new to AO3 and all I'm doing at the moment is copying over some of my chapters from Wattpad to see how it goes c: Bear with me while I figure this out and apologies in advance for all the A/Ns referring to Wattpad votes/comments - I'll get round to editing them soon!

**A/N: Hellooo! Just to give you an honest heads up - this isn't a quick, fun, smutty read. It's a slow burner that attempts to stay true to Snape's (movie) character with a moderate amount of original plot to keep things interesting. But I'm sure things will get spicy eventually** 😉

**I hope the first chapters of OC backstory aren't too tedious. It was important to me that she was dark and interesting and actually worthy of Severus' interest.**

**PS - time moves relatively quickly in the beginning so don't worry, Snape doesn't start creeping on a minor!**

**EDIT: my writing has improved a lot since the earlier chapters of this story so don't let them put you off!! (One of these days I'll get round to rewriting them!)**

*****

Asha was losing her grip and she knew it. The warm, supposedly cosy air of the dorm was suffocating and the soft breathing of her blissfully sleeping peers was mocking. Every time she closed her eyes, images of those tiny blue lips, that pale face and those lifeless eyes flashed in her head. This was a nightly battle. Asha felt as though her insides were knotted. She was hyperaware of the solid walls that were enclosing her. She couldn't bear to lie here any longer.

The clock on the wall read 1:03 am. Asha slipped out of bed and pulled on her hoodie, sweatpants and sneakers, grabbed her wand and crept out into the deserted common room. She stood in front of the warm coals of the fireplace and looked into the mirror that hung above it. She was willowy and pale, with dark hair pulled into a high bun which was messy from endless tossing and turning.

With a precise flick of her wand, she whispered, " _Caveatis porcina_ " and watched her reflection as the somewhat successful disillusionment charm made her body appear to swim with the flickering shadows behind her. The badger hanging on the wall banner behind Asha seemed to be looking at her with disapproval. Inspecting herself, she came to the conclusion that this was a slight improvement from the last time she had tried the charm.

Asha finally felt like she could breathe again as she stepped into the crisp outside air. As she jogged down the grassy hill towards the Black Lake, the smell of trees and damp filled her nose. She stopped at the water's edge and took in the view of the stars and surrounding mountains. Letting her disillusionment charm dissolve away, she used her wand to silently raise a rock off the shore and send it skimming across the water with a flick. A year ago Asha wouldn't have dared risk the sound of the splash, but since then she had been out here many times and had never once been caught. Sure, there had been a few near misses with patrolling teachers, but they didn't often come out here after midnight.

Apart from these late-night excursions, Asha didn't normally break the rules, preferring to stay on the good side of the professors. This was mostly due to the fact she couldn't be bothered with 'disciplinary measures' and liked to stay below the radar. But it was also because she was mature enough to understand that the teachers deserved her respect. However... what they didn't know couldn't hurt them. On nights like these, Asha felt the reward was well worth the risk.

Unfortunately, the serene, moonlit atmosphere of the Black Lake had not done much to subdue what Asha felt brewing inside her. No, brewing wasn't the right word. She felt like the weight she was carrying had finally become too heavy. She was cracking up. It was getting harder to act normal. Harder to put a pin in her emotions. Harder to focus on the things she was _supposed_ to be focussed on - homework, friends, what's for lunch today... She could feel her inner strength diminishing every day. Asha was trapped on a sinking ship with nothing to do but watch.

Something within her just felt innately wrong. Though this wasn't new. Things had been twisted ever since ... _Cole_... Asha's chest tightened and she instantly wiped her mind clean of those thoughts. She tried instead to focus on the sound of the stones as they skitted along the water's surface and out of sight; tried to focus on the way their trail made the reflection of the moon warp and bubble. But it was no use. Though she refused to let herself get sucked into those memories, there were other things to think about that kept adding to her inner turmoil. Asha's jaw tightened as she remembered the incident that took place at Lockhart's abysmal first duelling lesson...


	2. Parselmouth

**One Year Earlier...**

Entering the Great Hall for the first lesson of the club, little second year Asha was buzzing with excitement to finally try duelling. She weaved her way to the front of the crowd, only to have her smile replaced by a scowl as she saw it was _Lockhart_ who was going to be 'teaching' them. He seemed to have compensated for his evident lack of wizarding abilities with a revolting passion for _himself_. About ten minutes into the lesson, Asha's scowl was replaced by a satisfied smirk, having watched Snape send that poor excuse for a wizard flying to the other side of the room.

Asha partnered up with Maive Cosgrove, the only one of her friends she'd convinced to come along to the club. Asha easily disarmed Maive three times in a row before letting her have a free shot. Asha noticed other kids were now jinxing each other, which looked very tempting but she decided Maive probably wouldn't take it too well.

To Asha's amusement, the 'duelling' quickly got out of hand and Lockhart decided to give the most ridiculously poor attempt at demonstrating a blocking spell. He actually _dropped_ his wand! She noticed Snape seemed to be enjoying Lockhart's display of ludicrously poor duelling skills as much as everyone else was.

Still smirking, Snape called Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter up to the stage and that's when things got strange. Malfoy managed to conjure a snake, which Asha thought was a pretty shit duelling strategy, although she supposed she didn't actually know how to get rid of it. As the snake was slithering towards Justin Finch-Fletchly, Harry yelled at it to leave Justin alone. To Asha's (and apparently everyone else's) surprise, the snake went limp. At the time, Asha put this down to the failure of Malfoy's novice magic.

The lesson seemed to end far too quickly and Asha left the hall dreaming up duelling tactics and noting the spells she wanted to work on. However, very quickly she became aware of the ominous muttering that was emanating from the mass of students. She heard a Ravenclaw girl nervously say "Potter's a Parselmouth!" and a Slytherin boy whisper "I can't believe he was trying to get that snake to _off_ a Mudblood in front of the whole fucking year!" A sense of unease washed over Asha and nestled itself in the pit of her stomach.

That evening as she sat in the Great Hall, her mind was racing. _Harry was a Parselmouth? What even was that? People keep saying he spoke in 'Parseltongue'... But she understood him... Or did she just imagine it?_ There was no way she was going to tell anyone about this. Asha wasn't one to confide in people. In fact, that might be the understatement of the century. She was very careful and purposeful about what she portrayed to the rest of the world. To her teachers, Asha was bright, hardworking and respectful. To her friends, she was bubbly, compassionate and, overall, a normal Hufflepuff girl. Inside, however, things were much darker. She was shrewd, calculating and swirling with thick emotions that constantly needed reigning in and locking down.

The next morning Asha woke early and made her way to the library before breakfast. It was a place she knew well. She found people tended to underestimate what you could learn from books. She had taught herself a whole array of interesting spells just from following guides in textbooks. She had even started trying to learn non-verbal magic from an old tome she found at the back of Flitwick's charms classroom.

It took her a surprisingly long time to find the book she was looking for. It was called _A Complete Guide to Parseltongue,_ first published in 1913 _._ She was about to check-out the book and had taken a step in the direction of Madam Pince when she changed her mind. She didn't want it written in the school records that she had suddenly sparked an interest in Parseltongue - Asha had an ominous feeling about the whole thing. Instead, she quietly enchanted her school bag with a simple shielding spell that theoretically should stop the charms around the library from detecting the removal of the unregistered book. She stuffed _A Complete Guide to Parseltongue_ inside the bag and strolled out of the library.

Asha refrained from looking through the book until later that night when the common room had emptied. She turned to the section on Parselmouths and immediately saw something that made her chest swell with nervous anticipation: _Parselmouth is a trait that is inherited, not a skill that is learned._ If it was a rare genetic trait, it might be the clue she needed to figure out who her parents were. Further down the page, another sentence caught her eye: ' _Most experts agree that the only remaining lineage of Parselmouths is that of Salazar Slytherin, the other known bloodlines having died out over twelve centuries ago.'_ Asha frowned. But wasn't Voldemort the last surviving heir of Slytherin? Hadn't she heard that somewhere? And if she and Harry were both Parselmouths, did that mean they were related? Surely that wasn't possible...

Asha wasn't going to be able to sleep until she had answers. She needed to find information on the Slytherin lineage - surely the trusty library had something about that. She slipped out of the common room and crept along the gloomy stone corridors by the light of her illuminated wand, her sock-clad feet making no sound at all. Once she made it to the library she began sifting through the shelves. After what felt like hours of scouring texts on the history of Hogwarts and books such as ' _The Greatest Wizards of All Time_ ', she had found nothing of use. To her immense frustration, none of the books went into great enough detail on Salazar Slytherin's descendants.

Just as she was flicking through a book called ' _Little Know Facts About the Hogwarts Founders',_ she heard the horrifying sound of the library door swinging open and closed. Instantly her heart rate doubled and she desperately thought _Knox!_ (At this point she didn't have much experience with non-verbal magic). Mercifully the light from her wand extinguished and she crouched behind a desk, listening hard. The patter of soft footsteps drew closer, coming down the main aisle. Asha, now very conscious of the sound of her breathing, stood up and slowly crept to the back end of the shelves, concealing herself behind a stacks of books. No longer able to hear footsteps, she poked her head around the shelf to see the back of a tall, dark figure bent over a book, silhouetted by a soft glow from his wand. _He hadn't noticed her._ Making totally sure the figure wasn't about to turn around, Asha waited a few seconds before tiptoeing her way down the back wall of the library in the direction of the exit. Her fingers were inches away from the door when -

"Did you really believe you were being that conspicuous?" came a deep voice.

_Shit._ The looming figure of Professor Snape emerged from the darkness, the light from his wand growing in intensity as he pointed it in her face.

"Explain yourself," he demanded.

"I -", Asha thought quickly, remembering she was still clutching the book, "-I only just remembered I have an essay due tomorrow that I haven't started" she lied easily, "I thought Madam Pince wouldn't mind if I borrowed this book." She held up _Little Known Facts About the Hogwarts Founders._ "I was going to bring it back tomorrow and check it out properly I swear!" It was easier than Asha would've liked to admit to feign the fear in her voice. Snape glared down his hooked nose at her with a look of disdain.

"It's not the book that's the issue, stupid girl. It's the fact you are wondering about the castle well after curfew," he snapped. "Name?"

"Asha Winters" she replied in her meekest voice.

"House?"

For a moment, Asha considered saying 'Gryffindor' but quickly realised that was an unnecessary risk.

"Hufflepuff," she admitted.

"Why, am I _not_ surprised" Snape muttered icily. "Ten points from Hufflepuff. Now get back to your dormitory. _Immediately_."


	3. Caught

**Back to the present...**

After that night Asha had tried her best to forget about Parselmouth. What did it matter who her parents were anyway? They were either dead or they didn't want anything to do with her. Yet, in the early hours of the morning, when she wished she was fast asleep like the rest of her dorm instead of standing out in the biting air of the Black Lake shore, her mind drifted to the Parselmouth mystery and what it might mean about her heritage.

Despite her buzzing mind, Asha felt her eyelids growing heavy. She lay down, feeling the sharp bumps of the cold, stony shore press into her back with her knees pointing to the sky. It was a clear night and the Scottland sky was densely packed with an impossible number of stars. She loved how the night sky reminded her of how insignificant and small she really was. It was a calming thought. _Everything's fine_ , thought Asha, _none of this stuff really matters_. 

With one arm tucked behind her head, she used the other to flick her wand and gracefully guide a dozen pebbles up into the air above her. She watched the stones seemingly swirl among the stars, dancing to the whisper of the trees. In that moment, the whole world felt so at peace.

"And what," came a deep, drawling voice, "in Merlin's name, do you think you are doing out here?"

The voice was deadly quiet but, compared to the slight rustling of trees and lapping of the lake, it was booming. Asha's heart gave a jolt as her moment of ease was sucked away and her concentration wavered. She was forced to cover her face with her arms as the stones once floating serenely above her came pelting down. Asha couldn't bring herself to move. She closed her eyes in frustrated defeat. _She couldn't believe this was happening._ Suddenly a hand gripped her upper arm and wrenched her to her feet. Asha spun around and faced Snape.

In general, Asha was a favourite among the staff - respectful, hardworking, and a top student. Severus Snape was the unfortunate exception. He already did not have the highest opinion of her. Partially because he seemed to dismiss all Hufflepuffs for soft-hearted idiots, but also due to her lack of enthusiasm for his subject. Asha understood potion brewing was a powerful and extremely useful skill. However, an illogical part of her (a part that she couldn't seem to control) just wasn't interested. Actually _using_ magicwas infinitely more appealing. It was instantaneous. You could feel it flowing through your veins. Brewing potions required patience and unwavering focus on the dullest of tasks: 'Stir the caldron six and a half times anticlockwise, add one drop of aconite fluid every seven seconds...'Hence Asha's attention often wandered in potions class and as a result, she was below-average and definitely not one of Snape's 'promising students'.

"Professor," she kept her voice calm and confident. "I am..." His piercing eyes were like two swirling black voids, sucking in the moonlight. "...definitely breaking the rules."

"That, might be the only correct answer you've provided me with all year". His voice was filled with venom and Asha felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise. "Never, in my time at Hogwarts, have I had the displeasure of meeting a student so disgustingly arrogant to be out nearly _five hours_ past curfew. And not only that, but _outside_ the castle, _lounging_ next to the most dangerous section of the grounds." Asha's eyes flicked to the Forbidden Forest that lay a couple hundred meters further down the shore. Even without looking at him, she could feel the anger radiating from his body. She sighed and pulled herself together.

"I'm sorry," she said, dragging her gaze back to his eyes. "I was being stupid and reckless and disrespectful. And I'll accept the consequences". Snape's glare didn't waver. _Had he even heard her?_

"First the library and now this! How many times have you been out here, Winters?" he hissed.

"Do you mean ever? Or after-"

"Of course I mean after curfew!" he snapped.

"Just this once," she replied. The lines on Snape's face deepened as he stared fiercely into Asha's eyes as if he were searching for proof of the lie he knew was there. Asha kept her face blank and stared determinedly back.

"So," Snape sneered sarcastically, "I suppose you mastered all that ridiculous stone whirling between all your classes _and_ homework _and_ gossiping with your little friends?"

"I suppose," said Asha. Snape's face contorted with fury as he grabbed the shoulder of her hoodie and started dragging her back up towards the castle.

"Just another insolent brat," he muttered through gritted teeth. "Fifty points from Hufflepuff and the headmaster will certainly hear of this. You will see me after your potions class tomorrow to discuss further punishment." Asha was starting to feel angry now. _How could she have let herself get caught!_ _And_ _FIFTY_ _POINTS?!_ Hufflepuffs never lost that much at once. People would definitely notice and she did _not_ need them asking her questions. Asha realised words were still coming out of that ominous, billowing cloak. "...And if I see you out of your dorm so much as _one minute_ after curfew, I can assure you, you'll be on the next train home."

Asha scoffed under her breath: "Wouldn't that be nice". _A home._

Asha came from a town in New Zealand called New Plymouth where she had been raised in an orphanage - well, it wasn't called that these days. The place was titled 'St Andrews Public Institution for the Care of Orphans'... much more PC. It was a grim little place but it was safe and she and her twin brother, Cole, found lots of ways to have fun.

Asha and her brother were found buddled together on the doorstep of the orphanage on the day of the Winter Wildfires, hence providing the inspiration for their first names. 'Winters' came from the tradition at St Andrews where any child of unknown parentage is christened with the surname of the season in which they were born.

When she was eleven-years-old, immediately after her brother's death, she had found herself in shock and distraught in Dumbledore's office. She vaguely remembered him telling her she was now in Scottland but would be sent to the 'East Sussex Adolescent Group Foster Home' until September, at which time she was to come to Hogwarts to learn magic because she was a witch. Her memories of that time were all very hazy but things started to stabilise once the school year began.

The sorting hat assigned her to Hufflepuff. Unfortunately, it quickly became clear to Asha that she didn't fit in - perhaps the trauma of losing her brother had changed her; clouded her usually more cheerful and accepting nature, making her bitter and detached. But even though Asha felt like a black sheep, from the outside she appeared to fit in just fine. She found life was easiest if she stuck to her Hufflepuff facade. She had a large group of friends, and people tended to like and confide in her.

Asha's main strategy at school was to blend in. She didn't want any trouble and she didn't want any attention. Ironically, when she first arrived at Hogwarts she was significantly taller than most of her classmates, meaning she stuck out like a Grindylow in the Ministry. Asha's first year was characterised by constant teasing, with nicknames such as Lanky, Bowtruckle and Beanstalk going in and out of vogue. But a few snide comments were the least of her worries and now she was in third year, the rest of her peers had almost caught up height-wise and there was nothing left to draw her from the crowd.

The morning after Snape had dragged her from the lakeshore, Asha reluctantly pulled on her school robes, grabbed her bag, and headed down to breakfast with Maive. She would've preferred to skip breakfast altogether and enjoy an extra half hour's sleep, but the desire not to draw any unneeded attention to herself was too strong.

The great hall was filled with the chatter of students and the clinking of cutlery. Asha and Maive took seats near the middle of the Hufflepuff table and greeted the adjacent group of fourth years.

"Did you finish that essay on the properties of Flobberworm mucus?" Maive asked. Asha lowered her spoon of porridge feeling her appetite diminish rather abruptly.

"Um, yeah. Well, sort of" said Asha, flashing a guilty smile. "I mean, I wrote it but I didn't bother looking stuff up in the textbook so I'm fairly sure most of what I came up with is total rubbish. But Snape can't say I didn't hand it in..."

Maive giggled, returning the guilty smile; "Yeah, it was a hard one! I ended up copying half of Matt's essay."

Just then, Alisha Cotton came storming down the aisle between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables and slammed her hands down in front of Asha and Maive looking outraged.

"Have you seen the house points?!" she cried, causing all heads in the vicinity to turn. Maive glanced around, looking embarrassed.

"No, why?" Asha asked, feigning confusion.

"Last night we were in second place. Now we're coming last! We're even behind Gryffindor! How can that have happened overnight? We must've lost at least 50 points!"

A chorus of scandalised chatter erupted from the Hufflepuff table. Satisfied with the reception of her news, Alisha took a seat and began serving herself eggs.

"That's weird. Maybe Filch caught someone out past curfew," suggested Maive.

"Yeah, trying to sneak into the kitchens for some more of that chocolate gateau no doubt," Asha joked, "the house-elves were on point last night!"

"Well, in that case, it must've been a bunch of people because that's only worth a 10 point penalty max," said Alisha. Asha shrugged taking a bite of porridge.

"Ooo, maybe that fourth year Hamish Knighton finally got caught for steeling that duelling book from the restricted section!" Maive whispered, "did you guys hear about that?"

Her and Alisha launched into a hushed conversation about this 'thrilling' piece of gossip, but Asha had stopped listening. She'd just had a thought. She had never thought to check the restricted section for information on Slytherin lineage; because why would it be in the restricted section?Then it hit her. _Of course!_ She had to resist the urge to facepalm. If Voldemort was involved in the bloodline then of course that information would be in the restricted section. How could she have been so stupid!

Despite Asha's sudden yearning to search the restricted section, she still had a whole day of classes ahead of her. Potions was first period and even more of a struggle than usual. Try as she might, Asha's eyelids kept drooping and her mind wandering. In fact, she was yawning so often that at one point Matt, who shared her table and was clearly getting annoyed by his partner's lack of focus, asked her if she needed to go to Madam Pomfrey for a shot of Pepper-Up Potion.

Mid-period, when Asha was mindlessly staring at the jar-lined wall while stirring their potion (having totally lost track of when she was supposed to change direction), Snape's threatening glare materialised in her line of sight causing her to snap back into reality. She quickly switched to anticlockwise stirring and motioned for Matt to add the ginger root. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the bat-like figure glide over to their table.

"Don't forget to see me after class, Winters" he murmured venomously over her shoulder. The tickle of his breath on her neck made her hair stand on end.

When the rest of the class was packing up and heading out the door, Jules, Alisha and Maive skipped over, waiting as usual for Asha and Matt to accompany them to Care of Magical Creatures.

"You guys go ahead, I've got a question about the essay,' said Asha. Maive gave her a questioning look but followed the others out. The door swung shut on its own accord and Asha turned to see Snape leaning against his desk, wand in hand and a smirk on his face.

"A question is it?" he jeered, "Now that _is_ surprising to hear, seeing as it seems quite clear...", he strolled around his desk and shuffled through a pile of parchment, "...that very little, if any, thought was put into this abysmal piece of scribble." He held up her essay between his thumb and forefinger as if it were an infectious rag. Asha kept her expression blank and approached his desk. He placed the essay back on the pile with an air of revulsion. "Don't want your little friends knowing about your midnight activities do you, Winters? Or is it more the fact that you don't want them suspecting that you are responsible for the loss of all those points?" He was glaring at her, expecting an answer.

"Quite right, Professor," she replied calmly, "I'd prefer not to become the most hate member of my house if I can help it."

At Asha's snarky response, Snape straightened up and loomed over her.

"Well, hand in another homework assignment as dreadful as this one and I'll make it my personal quest to ensure the entire school knows you were the perpetrator, he growled. "Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Snape took a seat at his desk.

"I want you here at 1 pm on Saturday for your detention," he drawled.

Before Asha could stop it, a look of annoyance flashed across her face - Hogsmeade was this weekend! But she quickly replaced it with her well-practised respectful, compliant expression and agreed she would be there. She could feel him continue to scowl at her as she left the room.

**A/N: If you're enjoying the story let me know by leaving a vote! It makes me more excited than I like to admit haha :P**

**I've just realised that the '*' that I sometimes use to break up scenes hasn't been AO3 compatible so sorry** **if you've come across out-of-the-blue jumps in time/perspective. For now, this will continue to happen because I am a lil bit lazy... :P (it shouldn't be too** **noticeable** **or often tho)**

**Bonus info: I'm currently writing the infamous Yule Ball chapter so ya'll should get excited**


	4. Detention

**A/N: Woah, the classic 'detention with Snape' chapter already! lel**

**Just wanted to say I hope there's someone out there who kinda enjoys this c: It's fun to write - I've never tried to write anything before - I thought I would write a chapter and get bored but look how far I've got!**

*****

The castle was strangely quiet. It was the last Hogsmeade weekend in the lead up to Christmas, meaning almost every student in the third year and above had rushed off to purchase armfuls of presents in the form a Zonko's joke products and Honeydukes sweets. Everyone... except Asha.

The dungeons were icy-cold this time of year and Asha was regretting not wearing anything warmer than her usual black hoodie and her deep blue scarf, gifted to her by Maive during her first year at Hogwarts.

Even though several days had passed since Asha had decided she was going to check the restricted section of the library, she had refrained from taking action. She'd figured her best chance of not getting caught, and hence being able to find what she was looking for, was waiting till the Christmas holidays. During this merry time of year, the majority of staff and students would leave the castle to spend time with their families, meaning the enforcing of school rules would be more relaxed and the corridors would be far less patrolled after hours. Thus, Asha was forcing herself to endure her burning curiosity for a couple more weeks.

She pushed open the heavy wooden door to the potions classroom and slipped inside, returning her hand to her comparatively warm pocket as quickly as possible. Snape was sitting at his desk marking homework and didn't look up. A violent shiver ran down Asha's spine. How was it possible that it was several degrees colder in here than it was out in the drafty corridors?

"It's freezing in here," Asha said into the silence, "don't you ever light a fire?" before remembering where she was and why she was here and quickly adding "-sir".

"I'm glad you noticed," said Snape, still not bothering to look up, "I thought a slight chill might help the message sink in."

" _Slight?_ This is practically arctic," Asha muttered.

Snape finally looked up from his parchment-covered desk.

"Careful" he warned, "you're not here to make complaints."

"No, sir," said Asha. She walked further into the classroom.

"Now, what is there for you to do?" Snape mused. "Shall I get you mending cauldrons? Or _perhaps_ scrubbing the floors is more appropriate." His eyes seemed to shine a little brighter in the candlelight.

"This is my first ever detention you know?" said Asha, "so _perhaps_ you could go easy on me." She flashed a well-practised small, endearing smile.

"Yes, I remember generously deciding _not_ to give you detention last year, after catching you in the library _in the middle of the night_. Evidently that was a mistake or you wouldn't be standing here now, disturbing my peaceful Saturday. Wouldn't you agree?"

That wiped that smile off Asha's face. After an uncomfortable silence, Snape indicated a large stack of boxes in the corner and told her she would be unpacking their contents - mostly ingredients and brewing equipment - into the store cupboard, _without_ the use of magic of course. She suspected he had purposefully placed the boxes at the furthest possible distance from the storeroom.

After forty-five minutes of monotonous walking back and forth, carrying as much as she dared (Snape had assured her that if she broke anything he would extend her detention by at least an hour), the stack in the corner did not seem to have shrunk at all. Asha had been keeping her eye on Snape for the past fifteen minutes and swore he had not looked up from his work once. Feeling daring, she slid her wand from her pocket and non-verbally levitated an entire box worth of ingredients so they were hovering just above her outstretched arms. That way, if he glanced at her briefly it would still look as though she were carrying the ingredients manually.

To Asha's triumph, she made it to the storeroom undetected, where she waved her wand and silently sent all the items to their designated shelves. When she emerged from the storeroom, the potions master was still hunched over his desk, his head resting lazily in one hand while the other scribbled no doubt condemnations on below-par essays.

With her new illicit method, Asha was getting through the boxes at triple speed. After half an hour, the pile had shrunken dramatically. She was just getting overly confident, walking with a levitating stack of scales that would barely make it under the storeroom doorframe, when he finally noticed.

"What- _Winters_!" he barked.

Asha stopped in her tracks. All the exhilaration that tends to accompany getting away with mischief was sucked out of her feet through the hard, cold floor. She stepped back, out of her fake carrying stance and waved her wand at the cupboard before turning to face him. The scales glided into the storeroom and gently settled on the shelves.

For a second, Snape looked half furious, half surprised. His eyes moved between a guilty Asha and the near-vanished stack of boxes.

"Have you been using non-verbal magic?" he demanded, sounding sceptical of what he had just witnessed.

"Yes," Asha admitted. There was no point in denying it, he'd seen her. Snape was wearing his usual cold, blank expression.

"Show me," he ordered.

"What?" Asha half laughed in surprise. When he didn't reply she mumbled, "Er... okay". As much as she didn't like the idea of anyone finding out about her non-verbal abilities, the look on Snape's face was deadly. She pointed her wand at the box that remained to be emptied. Viles of moondew and dragon blood hovered into the air. Asha then moved her wand in a subtle swooping motion so it was now pointing at the storeroom, before flicking it in a subtle figure-eight motion. The viles bobbed across the classroom and within seconds were settled in their intended places in the cupboard. Snape's face was unreadable.

"I've got sixth years who can't do that half as well as you've just done," Snape said slowly.

Asha's face reddened. She was well aware that she was overly skilled for her age. It was a fact she definitely wanted kept quiet. Not only did she not want the attention, she was almost certain her obsession with practising magic was abnormal.

"Who taught you?" demanded Snape, somehow looking even more severe than usual.

Asha shuffled uncomfortably, unsure what she should say to minimise the repercussions of what she'd thoughtlessly revealed.

"Answer me." His voice was quiet but threatening.

"I just sort of taught myself, okay," Asha blurted out. She saw Snape's face twitch.

"A likely story," he spat, standing up from his desk. "Third years don't just ' _teach themselves'_ non-verbal magic".

"I read about it in a book-"

Snape actually scoffed.

"-but the book was rubbish" she finished. That caught his attention. Asha plunged onward: "I remembered reading somewhere that it's theorised that magic came before language, and incantations became the basis for language, not the other way around. And from that, I came up with this theory that ...well... if you imagine magic is like an energy that flows within you, that you can learn to channel it in specific ways. Words help you to capture to essence of how you need to channel the energy to perform spells and influence the physical world." The words were spilling out of her mouth before she could stop them, like she had been desperate to share them. "I figured that to do non-verbal magic, you need to stop thinking of the words as words, but as a flow of energy. Different consonants and vowels representing the intensity and direction of the flow of magic in your body. It's like I'm _feeling_ the words, not saying them in my head. I know it sounds stupid and it's probably very inaccurate but it doesn't matter because thinking of it in that way just works for me."

The shrewd way Snape was looking at Asha made her feel stupid and vulnerable. She wished she had just stuck with 'I read about it in a book'.

"Why don't others know you can do this?" Snape asked harshly, "Surely you would relish in being admired by your peers and commended by your professors?"

Asha averted her eyes. In truth, she didn't know the full answer. She just liked to keep to herself; didn't feel like people were worth confiding in. She didn't feel very connected to her friends. Despite living in a castle full of her peers and teachers, Asha couldn't shake the feeling of isolation. Totally unaccustomed to this dreadful feeling of exposure of what was far too close to her true self, Asha resorted to a shrug.

"Fine," said Snape curtly. He had an almost suspicious look on his face. "If you finish the unpacking by hand you can go." He returned to his desk and leafed through a book, though Asha had the impression his thoughts were still focussed on the unusual ability of his fourteen-year-old student to perform non-verbal magic.


	5. The Restricted Section

**A/N: If you find yourself enjoying the story then it would mean so much to me if you would leave a vote! A little press of a button for you = great excitement from the irrational part of myself that loves appreciation from strangers on the internet haha**

**But more importantly, the comments section is one of my favourite parts of the internet, so please leave one! All jokes and roasts are welcome. Plus this is a work in progress so I would love feedback! Even things like "This is getting boring", "That seems out of character", "Cringe!", "The Bloody Baron doesn't speak!", "What about Spinners End!" and "YOU CAN'T APARATE INSIDE THE HOGWARTS GROUNDS!!"**

*****

Christmas Eve had finally come. Asha sat cross-legged on her bed in the deserted dorm; all of her roommates had gone home for Christmas. The clock hands seemed to be moving slower than usual as Asha tried to pass the time by shooting various hexes into the fireplace, making it smoke and spit. Finally, the clock struck midnight. _Merry Christmas to me,_ she thought excitedly as she jumped up and cast a disillusionment charm on herself. She headed out into the common room and checked the mirror. _Man, she was getting good at this charm!_ All that could be seen was a shimmery haze in front of the back wall where her reflection should have been.

Even though Asha was sure no staff would be patrolling the castle tonight, she still walked the corridors carefully and quietly, though this was partially due to the fact it was pitch black as she had decided not to risk using wand light. When Asha had done this a year ago, she hadn't been so careful.

She entered the library, ears pricked for any signs of movement. As she had expected, she was totally alone. She silently lit her wand and moved through the rows of books, walking all the way to the back shelves. It was so easy to get into the restricted section that Asha began to worry she had set off some kind of silent alarm set by Filtch. But when, after ten minutes of standing in the darkness, ears pricked, no one had come to detain her, Asha lit her wand again and began sifting through the shelves. _All I want for Christmas is some answers,_ she thought to herself, hoping the generous spirits of the holiday season might hear her prayers. She knew exactly what she was looking for: a record of the Slytherin lineage; something that would help her identify Parselmouth males born in the last 70 years or so.

Asha was sure it was her father she had inherited the trait from. She only knew a limited number of things about her parents. Number one: in order for the Parselmouth gene to have been passed to her, one of her parents had to have been a witch or wizard. Number two: her mother was a Muggle. Since arriving at Hogwarts Asha had discovered that wizarding orphanages do exist, sprinkled across Europe. If her mother had been a witch she would not have abandoned her children on the doorstep of a Muggle orphanage, in the middle of a country with no wizarding community what so ever. Number three: her father raped her mother.

Back at the orphanage, Asha and Cole tended to cause trouble wherever they went. Strange things, which Asha now realised must've been accidental magic. St Andrews, being an Anglican Orphanage, was staffed by many religious matrons, none more devout than Madam Pions. She was always highly sensitive to the strange happenings that often occurred around Asha and Cole. For example, more than once, when it was the twins' turn to clean the bathrooms, the water stopped running. A visit from a local plumber revealed that all the water in the main pipes had frozen. But only in the orphanage, and in the middle of July.

One day Asha and her brother overheard a rather loud, rather one-sided conversation between Madam Pions and the orphanage headmaster...

"DO NOT MAKE EXCUSES FOR THEIR WICKED POWERS! I HAVE BEEN TELLING YOU FOR YEARS, THEY ARE THE SPAWN OF SATAN! IT IS ALL THAT ONE CAN EXPECT FROM THE PRODUCT OF **RAPE**!"

At the time, Asha and Cole did not know the meaning of this word, only realising years later what the hysterical matron had been implying.

She wasn't sure why she was so obsessed with finding out who her father was. He was a rapist and not someone she cared to associate her identity with. However, for some reason, it seemed important and perhaps he could lead her to her mother, of whom she knew nothing about - the orphanage had no record of her mother; Asha had broken into the office multiple times to stare at her and Cole's sparse files.

Tonight Asha was finding out that restricted section was extensive and far less ordered than the rest of the library. It took her hours to find what she was looking for. Heart swelling with anticipation, she unrolled a huge, dusty, sheepskin scroll, stamped with a wax serpent.An intricate web of wizarding families swam in the glow of her wand, and at the top centre, written in a box slightly larger than the others on the page, were the words, _Salazar Slytherin._

Laying the scroll down on a desk positioned against the back wall of the library, Asha took a seat. She worked through the family tree slowly and methodically, marking the scroll with glowing gold arrows, crosses and 'P's for Parselmouth drawn with her wand. To her disappointment, it was looking like most of the last decedents of Salazar Slytherin had died over a century ago. Marvolous Flint, for example, was the last in a major line and had been born in 1792. Finally, Asha spotted a little box at the end of a branch holding the name of a man born in 1926. _Tom Marvolo Riddle._ She scoured the rest of the scroll and found no other Parselmouths born later than the 19th century. Did that mean she had found her father, the man responsible for her Parselmouth abilities? There was always the possibility that there were mistakes in the family tree. Perhaps entire branches were missing - secret offspring due to shameful affairs. Still, this was the closest she had been to discovering her parent's identities so she decided not to discount the legitimacy of her investigation too soon.

Just as she was double-checking the scroll in case she had missed something, a slight disturbance in the air behind her made her jump out of her skin. She spun around in her chair and inhaled sharply as she registered the tall, lean figure of ... _him again?!_ The shock had broken her disillusionment charm and Asha felt the familiar sensation of water running across her skin as her body returned to its usual opaque self. Almost instantly, she flicked her wand, causing the markings on the scroll to vanish and pitch darkness to fall over the library. Knowing it was a lost cause, she still desperately attempted to roll up the huge scroll but a hand slammed down on her wrist and she was suddenly blinded by a bright light being pressed against her cheek. Asha could feel her heart beating hard. _How long had he been standing behind her?!_ She tried to regain composure. Turning her head against the force of the wand digging into her cheek, she squinted into the menacing, angular face of Severus Snape. For a moment they just stared at each other, one of them trying to slow their racing heart, the other calm and cold. Finally, he spoke.

"You again, Winters," said Snape icily. "Yet again displaying the ability to perform magic far more advanced than what you should be capable of." He released her wrist from his grip and turned his wand light to the sheepskin scroll lying open on the desk. He studied it intently for what Asha felt were the longest minutes of her life. Eventually, he returned his unreadable glare to her.

"What were you doing looking at this?" he asked quietly.

Asha's mind started racing. _How much had he seen? Did he know she was tracing Parselmouth? Should she lie and say she was just curious about what was in the restricted section? No, he would never believe that! Especially if he had seen her marking the scroll._

In the end, she said nothing.

"Why were you looking at this scroll?" he demanded more forcefully than before. "What could a third year student possibly want with this information?"

Still, Asha said nothing. She simply stared back into his harsh black eyes, lips pursed.

"Get up," Snape growled. Asha did as she was told. He dragged her back to the Hufflepuff common room, his grip on her upper arm unrelenting. When they were standing outside the stack of barrels that marked the common room entry, Snape spoke again in a calm but deadly whisper, all while pointing his glowing wand in her face.

"You are hereby banned from the library. You will not set foot in that room, do you hear me? And twenty points will be taken from Hufflepuff. Ten for being up past curfew and another ten for accessing the restricted section, plainly without permission. Be grateful it's not more. In the time it takes me to decide on further disciplinary measures I would highly recommend you rethink your decision to deny me an explanation for your behaviour. Items are in the restricted section for a reason, Winters."

Hesitantly, Asha backed towards the common room door, not knowing whether he was done with her. Snape gave her one final menacing look before striding off into the gloom of the corridors.

Asha was feeling a bit shaken up after being dragged through the castle by Snape. The potions professor had caught her violating school rules too many times for her liking. She slumped into an armchair in the common room and pointed her wand at the hearth causing flames to burst from the coals. _Why the hell was he in the library in the early hours of Christmas morning anyway? Git._ But at the end of the day, it didn't matter that much, because she had still found the information she was looking for. _Tom Marvolo Riddle._ Where had she heard that name before? She stared into the hypnotic flames of the fireplace for several minutes, sifting through her memories.

_Crash!_

Asha had just remembered something so staggering that a rush of red sparks had burst from her wand, knocking over the rack of fireplace tools. She didn't even glance at the mess she'd made. _Wasn't Voldemort's real name Tom Riddle? Hadn't she heard Harry, Ron and Hermione talking about it at the end of second year?_ Asha could hear the thumping of her heart. _It made sense._ It was widely known that Voldemort made a habit of raping his victims, muggles and witches alike, before killing them. No doubt it was a display of power and savage control. He could easily have raped her mother. But no, that didn't make sense - how could her muggle mother have survived? No one survived Lord Voldemort... except for Harry Potter of course. Plus, did Voldemort even travel to New Zealand? And surely if Salazar Slytherin was part of Asha's ancestry, she would've been placed in his house. Asha was not going to so easily accept that Voldemort was the wizard from whom she inherited Parselmouth. She must have made a mistake.

She slouched back into the armchair and gazed into the fire once more. She had been sure that finding more information was going to make her feel better. It hadn't.


	6. The Boggart

To Asha's surprise, Snape's threat of further disciplinary action turned out to be an empty one, and when a particularly nasty potions assignment in January required background reading, he grudgingly relinquished her ban from the library. So even though Asha was still facing an unrelenting sense of unease and many unanswered questions, she threw herself into her school work (with the exception of potions) and all in all, life at Hogwarts had returned to its normal state.

Asha was especially enjoying Defence Against the Dark Arts. She had never liked a teacher more than she did Professor Lupin. This was her first year of learning _real_ defensive magic - her previous Defense Against the Dark Arts professors had been utterly useless - and Lupin was a very practical, down-to-earth man and evidently an exceptional wizard. Walking into his class immediately made Asha's underlying feelings of frustration and distress dissipate. Today was no different.

As the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins entered the classroom, Professor Lupin cheerfully called, "No need to get out your books today, everyone. We'll be heading up to the staffroom for a practical lesson." Asha's spirits lifted even more. What could Lupin have in store for them today? Perhaps they would finally get to have another go at duelling, she thought hopefully.

The staffroom was not as lavish as Asha had expected. It was a long, spacious room, lined with mismatched chairs and the occasional coffee table. Perched on a chair in the middle of the room was Professor McGonagall, sipping a cup of tea and perusing a copy of the Daily Profit.

"I hope you don't mind Professor, I came across a Boggart in the back wardrobe yesterday and I was hoping it would provide some good practice for my third years" said Lupin, genially.

"Of course, not a problem, Remus," she smiled, "I've got plenty of work to be getting on with anyway". She stood up and slid past the crowd of students and out the door, her cup of tea bobbing along behind her. Asha found it strange that McGonagall hadn't wanted to stay and watch the show. Having read about Boggarts in the DADA textbook, Asha knew they were creatures that turned into the victim's greatest fear. It would be fascinating to see what scared everyone the most. Now she thought about it, she was quite interested to see what the Boggart would turn into for herself. She could think of plenty of concepts that frightened her, like the torture of her friends, the raping of her mother, the permanence of death. But a _thing_ that frightened her. What would that be? Perhaps an Inferius, or, she thought with a sickening sensation in her stomach, her brother telling her it was all her fault...

"Right, gather round everyone," called Lupin, indicating an old wardrobe in the back corner of the room. He explained the basic behaviour of Boggarts to the class and had begun introducing the _Riddikulus_ charm when he suddenly stopped mid-sentence, having noticed something behind the mass of students.

"Ah, Professor Snape, I didn't see you there. Apologies for the interruption," said Lupin. Sure enough, at the back of the room, lounging on a faded leather armchair and reading a black, titleless book, was Snape. He looked up coldly at Lupin and Asha felt a wave of anger at the potion master's lack of respect for her favourite teacher. "I'm afraid this lesson is bound to get noisy so you may want to continue your reading elsewhere," suggested Lupin.

"Actually, I would be quite interested to see what this Boggart has in store for your students, Lupin," replied Snape, with a malicious look in his eye.

"Very well then. As we were everyone. Repeat after me... _Riddikulus"._

Eventually, the time came for the Boggart to be released. A Slytherin boy called Blaise Zabini was up first. There was an air of nervous anticipation in the room. After a count of three, Lupin sent sparks at the wardrobe and a huge, hunched beast burst from the door, growling and drooling from a snarling wolf-life snout. Its skin was grey and patched with matted fur, taut against its skeletal limbs. Screams and scuffling feet sounded from behind Asha as half the class hurried to create more distance between themselves and the werewolf. Asha was horrified yet mesmerised as the creature prowled towards Blaise, its huge claws clicking against the stone floor.

Blaise yelled " _Riddikulus!_ ", and with a _crack,_ the werewolf shrank to the size of a chihuahua and let out a pathetic yap. The room filled with laughter (and gasps of relief from some of the Hufflepuff girls) and Lupin forced the Boggart back into the wardrobe.

"Oh well done, Zabini," came a drawling voice, causing the class to fall silent and turn to the back of the room. "Very impressive you were able to keep a clear head while facing such a _horrendous beast._ Don't you agree, Professor Lupin?" Snape's eyes were gleaming.

"Yes outstanding work, Blaise, seeing as you were the first one up," said Lupin, though Asha thought his smile looked forced and his complexion had paled slightly. "Right then, who's up next?" The rest of the class did not seem keen.

After a few moments of silence, Asha said, "I'll do it."

"Excellent, Asha," said Lupin. She stepped forward and he pointed his wand at the wardrobe. Once again the door burst open, this time revealing...

_Slap!_

It took Asha a second to realise what she was looking at. A lumpy, liquid mass of black and red had come tumbling out the cupboard and splattered on the ground, spraying her with scarlet droplets. If she wasn't so confused, she might have laughed at the seemingly pathetic nature of her Boggart in comparison to the snarling beast of Zabini's.

Just as Draco Malfoy sneered "What the hell is that meant to be, Winters?", something rolled from the top of the bubbling mass and stopped at Asha's feet. Looking up at her through empty eye sockets was a hairless, blistered severed head. The jaw had been ripped from the face and the apex of the skull had been blown open.

The confused silence of the class quickly turned to cries of horror.

Feeling nothing more than extremely surprised and curious, Asha stepped over the head and approached what she now realised must be a mutilated corpse. The next thing she saw was an obscenely twisted severed arm that appeared to have been savagely ripped from the body. This topped a mound of several more grotesquely severed limbs, some shredded to the point of being unrecognisable. She identified a torso from a ribcage that looked as though it had been partially dissolved. Her feet suddenly became warm and wet as the pool of blood spreading from the pile of gore soaked into her shoes and socks. The smell of barbeque filled the air and with a lurch of revulsion, Asha realised that dispersed between the remains were clumps of semi-cooked flesh and organs.

The rest of the class hastily covered their noses with their robes and a couple of students rushed out of the room, desperate to escape the smell. Several Hufflepuffs were retching, meanwhile, Pansy Parkinson had already been violently sick in the corner.

After a minute of chaos, only those who could handle the sight of the mangled body remained in the room and silence fell once more. Snape had risen from his nook and was approaching the scene, mildly interested to see what all the fuss was about.

"Asha?" said Lupin tentatively, taking a step towards her, though not getting too close as to become the focus of the Boggart, "are you all right?" Asha was still staring at the bloody mass, her brows furrowed.

"Er... yes, I'm fine," she said truthfully.

"Why don't you have a try at the _Riddikulus_ charm?" said Lupin. Then, when Asha didn't reply, "That's okay, perhaps I'll step in this time". As he made to step in front of Asha, she shot out her arm and held him back.

"I don't understand... is this supposed to scare me?" she asked, "I mean sure, it's horrific and cruel but why does the Boggart think that this is my greatest fear? It can't even attack me. It's sort of... pathetic."

A thick silence coated the room. The rest of the class exchanged nervous looks and Asha finally looked up to see Snape, glaring at her as if trying to intimidate her into admitting fear.

"Er, I'm not sure Asha. That is odd," mused Lupin, "perhaps you're just not so easily frightened as the rest of us"

"Oh, I highly doubt that," came Snape's deep drawl. "Everyone has their fears, Lupin. I think perhaps you've just found yourself a faulty Boggart"

Asha wasn't listening. A scrap singed, blood-soaked, blue material had caught her eye and she was carefully leaning forward, and fishing it out of the viscous blood with the tip of her wand. It was from the sleave of a jacket and read: ' _POLICE: Authorised Officer'._ This only served to spark more questions in Asha's mind.

"Maybe the Boggart's just targeting someone else in the class," she suggested, "someone whose worst nightmare is a police officer turned inside out?" She almost laughed at the absurdity of it but a severe look from Lupin wiped the smile from her face. Returning her attention to the Boggart she flicked the blue cloth from her wand and said, " _Riddikulus"._ The puddle of flesh and blood swiftly morphed into a pink salmon in a red dress which flopped about comically on the stone floor.

"Well done, Asha," said Lupin, "although it might have been better had you got to it a little sooner - spared the squeamish students some discomfort. Right then, anyone who still feels nauseous or light-headed should go and get something from Madam Pomfrey. Otherwise, let's keep tackling this potential slightly ill Boggart. Even if it doesn't present you with your greatest fear, it will still be good to practice the spell."

The rest of the lesson went smoothly. The Boggart seemed to behave normally for the rest of the students. Asha watched from an armchair as Matt made an Acromantula tapdance, Maive turned a great white shark into a goldfish, and Alisha gave a dementor a gorgeous, blonde head of hair.

Snape didn't show much interest after the first two Boggart encounters of the day, but to her annoyance, Asha noticed the professor kept eyeing her shrewdly. Initially, she played the typical Hogwarts student and quickly looked away. But the third time she caught him looking at her she had had enough and held his gaze fiercely until he finally broke eye contact.

*

By lunchtime the following day, news that a boggart had morphed into a horrifying half shredded, half liquified corpse for no apparent reason had swept the school. Asha was grateful that, for the most part, her involvement in this event had not been deemed relevant to the gossip. However, she was not happy with the fact it had deeply worsened her feeling of unease. _Could the boggart sense whatever's wrong with her?_ Frustrated that instead of finding answers, she was just coming up with more questions, Asha headed to the library after lunch (at which time she was supposed to be in divination).

It took her 10 minutes to find what she was looking for. She slammed _A history of the Great Wizarding War_ down onto a desk (earning a dirty look from Madam Pince) and leafed through the pages until she found the section depicting all that was known of Voldemort's whereabouts during the war. It was then, that Asha discovered the dark wizard was definitely not in New Zealand during the time she would need to have been conceived. He had been tracked travelling across Europe, causing death and destruction and gaining followers. A wave of tension and distress that she didn't know she had been holding on to was washed from her body. _Her mother couldn't have been raped by Voldemort. Asha wasn't 'The Dark Lord'_ s' _spawn_. She leaned back in her chair and stared out the window into the grey, cloud-covered sky. This still left her with so many questions. Things still didn't make sense. Where on Earth had she got her Parselmouth from?

**A/N: Just a cheeky reminder to drop a vote if you're enjoying the story c:**


	7. Binns' Cupboard

**A/N: This author's note is just to say I hope you're healthy, safe and COVID-free xx And thanks for still reading!**

*****

_Crack!!_

The sound of splintering wood cut through the classroom. It was enough of a disturbance for even the usually oblivious Professor Binns to look mildly surprised. Asha swore under her breath and leaned forward, pressing her forehead against the cool surface of the cupboard door and wondered why the fuck she had just done something so insanely out of character...

 _Fuck_. This kind of stuff never happened to Asha. She was always so observant, so aware, so in control. But she had felt increasingly as though she was losing her grip for quite some time now, and this was plain hard evidence. For the past few weeks, she had been finding it impossible to switch off her swirling thoughts and storms of emotions. Why was her previously highly effective strategy of simply shutting down any unhelpful internal distress now failing her?

One problem that now hovered over her, day and night, was that feeling of wrongness. It was impossible to explain. In her early years at Hogwarts, she had passed it off as a stupid figment of her angsty pre-teen imagination. But now, she kept stumbling across information that just didn't add up; her impossible case of Paselmouth with no reasonable explanation of its origin; that Boggart that couldn't read her for her greatest fear... something must be wrong with her. She _knew_ something was wrong with her - she could _feel_ it. But she couldn't put her figure on it, like when a word's on the tip of your tongue... just out of reach.

And on top of this insufferable sensation of wrongness, Asha was feeling more isolated and at odds with her peers than ever. Things were getting on her nerve far more easily. More than ever, she felt as though she didn't belong with the Hufflepuff crowd, or any of the student body really. The _petty_ issues that consumed the lives of the students at Hogwarts were ludicrously trivial. Why, the fact that Terry Boot didn't ask Jules to Hogsmeade on valentines day, was the most sensational topic for a whole week was unfathomable to Asha. And with the way Matt reacted to his transfiguration essay result, you'd've thought Voldemort himself had returned. _Do they have no perspective? Do they not understand how idiot_ _ic_ _and pathetic they sound?_ Asha felt like she was surrounded by children and remaining patient, comforting and bubbly was exasperating and exhausting.

She had more significant things on her mind than the mean comment Draco Malfoy had made to Alisha about her new hair cut. Terrible, unjust and traumatic things had occurred in Asha's life that she doubted any students at Hogwarts could understand. Every day she faced ceaseless, gut-wrenching guilt for the horrific mistakes she'd made, while Maive grumbled on about her Quidditch team's loss.

As Asha sat in History of Magic, barely listening to Professor Binns' monotonous drone about witch hunts of the 14th century, her group of friends were whispering excitedly.

"I heard that Cedrick Diggory is gonna ask out Tamsin Applebee"

"No way! Everyone knows Malcolm Preece has had a crush on her for years and he's Cedrick's best mate!"

"They're not best mates! Sure, they've played quidditch together for ages but I don't think they're that close."

"Well Maxine told me that ..."

Asha was doing her best to look engaged in the conversation but her insides were churning. Why were her friends such _children?_ But she already knew the answer: they'd never held a cold, limp infant in their arms; they'd never watched, at the age of ten, their twin brother be crushed by a bus in front of their eyes. Asha's sudden rage was growing exponentially. Her emotions were getting out of control and her thoughts were all over the place. For the rest of her life, she'd have to carry that feeling of Cole's hand being ripped away from hers, just as instantly as he was -

In an instant, Asha's inner turmoil seemed to exceed an invisible threshold. Her friendly smile contorted and she stood up with such violence that her chair tumbled backwards onto the stone floor. Before her table of friends had registered the movement, Asha had taken a furious step towards the cabinet of spare textbooks that stood adjacent to their table. Unable to produce a single rational thought, Asha swung her fist as hard as she could, channelling all her pent up rage and fear and desolation from the past month into that cupboard door.

_Crack!!_

Despite being mortified at what she had just done, she immediately felt some relief. After a few beats of stunned silence from the class, Asha registered a warm, tickling sensation around her right hand and she pulled her fist from the splintered hole that now decorated the front of the cabinet. The jagged edges of the inwardly bent wood tore at her already bleeding skin but she could hardly feel the pain, for what she was feeling within was far more excruciating.

Without so much as a remorseful glance at Professor Binns, Asha turned on her heel, unconsciously reaching her uninjured arm out behind her and causing her bag to fly into her hand like by a powerful magnetic force, and marched out of the room.

On her way out of the castle, Asha threw her bag carelessly down the marble stairs that lead to the kitchen corridor, off which was the entrance to her common room, before striding down the grassy hill towards Hagrid's cabin, not caring who saw her. Mercifully, the gamekeeper wasn't home. Asha walked around to the back of the cabin to a mossy pile of stones that lent up against the outside wall. She tapped one of the rocks three times with her wand. The pile of rubble parted and rolled to the side, revealing a wooden cellar door. Asha used her wand to pull open the door, perhaps unnecessarily aggressively. She pointed her wand into the darkness and prayed to Merlin Hagrid had visited the Hog's Head recently. 

" _Accio Firewhisky"_ Asha breathed, saying the words for good measure.

A brown bottle of Ogden's Old came soaring into the daylight. Wasting no time, Asha uncorked the bottle and took a large swig. The liquid burned down her throat, spreading warmth through her chest. She took another healthy mouthful before lazily flicking her wand, causing the cellar door to slam shut and the rocks to rumble back into their concealing position.

The Hogwarts grounds were still deserted, so Asha strolled up to a large rocky outcrop in the hillside and sat down in the long grass, back leant against the cool stone. Here, no one would be able to see her from the castle and it was unlikely anyone visiting Hagrid's cabin would look over this way carefully enough to spot her.

Asha had not forgotten that today was Buckbeak's execution. She could see the poor Hippogriff chained in Hagrid's pumpkin patch, unaware that before sundown his eagle head would be savagely separated from his horse hind. Asha hadn't interacted with Buckbeak more than a handful of times. It was more the injustice of the situation that irked her and she suddenly had a sadistic urge to force herself to watch the beheading. Her fury at the disgustingly pathetic behaviour of Draco Malfoy and his power-hungry father only added fuel to the fire that was burning within her. Luckily, the Firewhisky was working wonders. After many more swigs, Asha felt pleasantly numb and relaxed. She was oddly able to pay no mind to passing thoughts that would usually have consumed her.

After a while (Asha had no way of knowing exactly how long), the grassy hills ahead of her were rolling like a furry green ocean and the white clouds were swirling in a mesmerising fashion. She felt more content and at ease than she had done in months.

A strange dark blob was swimming up the hill towards Asha.

"Proffesssssor," Asha slurred.

Professor McGonagall snatched the bottle - now two thirds empty - away from Asha and examined the label.

"Miss Winters!" Apparently McGonagall was too shocked to think of any further scolding remarks. She whipped out her wand and the bottle vanished.

Thanks to the Firewhisky, Asha was feeling so content and calm that the fact McGonagall was dragging her up to the castle by her robes couldn't have bothered her less. She quickly found herself being half pushed half carried into an empty classroom, where McGonagall finally released her. Asha slumped onto a table and lay on her back, watching the rafters and blurry candlelight spin - it was a pleasant spin.

"Do not move from this room, Miss Winters! Not that it seems as if you are capable of doing so." McGonagall's stern words floated over Asha like wispy white clouds. She was just beginning to appreciate the warm buzzing was feeling in her body when the classroom door swung open.

"Here she is."

Asha turned her head to see the tall, dark figure of undoubtedly Professor Snape standing over her, McGonagall hovering behind him looking both murderous and a touch concerned. Asha's brain was moving sluggishly. _Why was Snape here? What did..._

"Good afternoon, Winters. I hear that instead of attending your classes, you've been enjoying a sophisticated one-woman party," he said.

 _What was he holding... Is that a... NO!_ With a jolt, Asha's brain had finally realised what was going on. She attempted to leap from the table but instead stumbled sideways and only managed to stay on her feet by grasping onto the stone window sill that had fortuitously appeared in her path.

"I donwanit," she said thickly, dragging herself away from the slowly approaching Snape.

"Tough," he said. Then, without warning, he was pushing a damp cloth into her face.

"No, noo!" Asha covered her mouth and nose with her hand and stumbled backwards into the corner, trying desperately to push him away with her free hand. She didn't want this feeling of peace taken from her.

" _Winters!_ " he snapped through gritted teeth.

Her efforts to keep him at bay were totally ineffective and Snape pulled Asha's hand away from her face with ease. As she struggled against him, he wrapped his other arm behind her neck to hold her head still as he pressed the strong-smelling cloth to her mouth and nose. Immediately the pleasant fogging of reality cleared and Asha's coordination and quick thinking returned to her, as well as the heavy emotions that the Firewhisky has so effectively numbed. She stopped struggling against Snape's hold and he released her.

"Back with us, I see?" he said, "A very effective potion this is, though unfortunately headaches and sensitivity to light are common side-effects..." (Asha's head was pounding like it'd been hit with a bludger) "...I've been forced to use it on a dozen students over the years, though not one of them had the nerve to put up such a _fearsome_ fight," he mocked.

"Miss Winters, what were you thinking!" exclaimed McGonagall, quickly approaching from the other end of the room. Asha felt deeply unhappy to have been dragged back into reality and slumped into a chair, bracing herself for the repercussions. "Where on Earth did you get that foul drink from? I'm certain you are aware that consumption of that substance is illegal for any underaged witch or wizard. And in the middle of the afternoon! I am-"

"I heard you caused _quite_ a stir up in Professor Binns class today," Snape interrupted.

"What's this?" said Professor McGonagall sharply.

Asha refused to look at either of them, staring instead at an old scorch mark on the desk. Snape met eyes with McGonagall and nodded towards the door.

"You will stay," said Snape, and the two of them left the room. Asha knew that on the other side of the door they were talking about her. Maybe they would take pity on her - think she'd had some kind of mental break down. The thought made her feel sick. She would much rather they yelled and punished her for breaking the rules... the former was far too close to the truth.

The door opened once more and Snape entered, this time alone.

"Has she gone to get Professor Flitwick?" Asha asked.

"No. I convinced her that I could adequately handle the situation."

Asha looked at him wearily. He pulled up a chair at sat opposite her, his arms resting on the table between them, fingers interlocked.

"What is going on?" he demanded.

"What do you mean?" said Asha, taken aback by this interrogation.

"There are clearly things bothering you. The Headmaster refuses to admit you are involved in anything out of the ordinary but I _know_ that is a lie."

"You've asked Dumbledore about me?!" Asha could feel the beginnings of panic in her chest.

"Look Winters, you're clearly distressed. Tell me what it is and I can help you."

This statement made Asha's blood boil. _How dare he!_ As if anyone could help her. He just wanted information out of her. What information was he expecting? He shouldn't be thinking of her as anything out of the ordinary! She took a deep breath.

"It's nothing, Professor. Really, I'm fine. I've just been stressed with all the homework we've been given lately. Besides, it's normal for students to have their occasional bouts of mischief, wouldn't you agree? It must be the hormones - I'm at that age aren't I?" She flashed him her sweetest, most innocent, timid smile. Perhaps if she made him sufficiently uncomfortable he would back off.

To her surprise, he didn't even flinch. Instead, he stood up, hands braced on the table, looming over her.

"Don't play games with me, Asha Winters" he was talking slowly and quietly. "You may have the rest of this castle fooled, but not me. Stop with this ridiculous facade!"

Asha's heart missed a beat. _What was he talking about?_

He must have registered the shock on her face because for a split second a hint a triumph flickered in his expression.

"I don't put on a _facade_ ," said Asha quietly, anger seeping into her voice.

"Oh really?", Snape drawled, "Well, my mistake then, it must have been genuine giggling I heard from you over breakfast yesterday with your little Hufflepuff friends"

"I don't _giggle_ ," she said through gritted teeth. He raised his eyebrows at her. With her already fragile emotional state in combination with her raging headache, this pushed her over the edge. She stood up and pressed her hands into the table, now matching Snape's stance, and stared fiercely into his black eyes, their faces inches apart.

" _You filthy hypocrite,_ " she snarled. He took a step back, not breaking eye contact.

" _Excuse me?_ "

"You are a _filthy fucking hypocrite!"_ Asha yelled. "Don't you _dare_ start lecturing me about facades! You stride around this school like you're an unfeeling, bank-faced, intimidating bully! At least I don't let my shit affect other people - you seem to make it your mission to make others' lives _misery!"_

"Oh there she is," said Snape quietly, "the _real_ Asha Winters".

Asha stared at him, feeling her nails digging into her palms and the clenched muscles of her jaw. Then, all of a sudden, her fury drained and she felt utterly defeated. She didn't care about _anything_ anymore. She felt exhausted and broken. She was so, so tired... Tired of battling. Tired of existing.

She slumped back into her chair and bent forward over the table, burying her head in her arms. As much as she didn't want him to see her in such a vulnerable state, she was too drained of energy to care. _He knows I'm messed up anyways_ , she thought bleakly. Tears threatened to pool but she pushed the emotions down. She heard Snape sit back down. After a few minutes of silence, he spoke.

"Asha, at some point you're going to have to decide whether or not it's worth living behind this mask."

She sat up slowly. The fact the Snape had seen through her act; like he almost had a grasp of the true her... it made her feel strange. It was a breath of fresh air. She felt... a little safer maybe... or a little less alone.

"You look dreadful," he said, scanning her face.

"Yeah, well, I feel it" Asha croaked.

Snape gave her one last searching look before saying "You need some sleep."


	8. Dreading Home

**A/N: Fun fact: my favourite Alan Rickman film is Snow Cake <3 If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend. It's available for freeeeee online if you look hard enough ;) Plus it features a young Stevie from Schitt's Creek!**

*****

Hogsmeade Station was bustling with chaos as students pushed their way on to the gleaming red steam engine, trying to secure the best compartments with their friends.

Asha stood against the back wall of the station, trying her best not to think of tiny cold hands and the panicked wailing of a devastated mother. Her fingers had turned white and numb from the force at which she was clutching the handle of her trunk. She'd known this moment would come. The moment in which she'd have to board the train and return to the East Sussex Adolescent Group Foster Home. For a whole year Asha had been trying desperately to forget the events that had transpired last summer. But she knew that returning to the Home would send it all flooding back.

The last couple of months of the term had gone surprisingly smoothly since her supposed breakdown. Snape had given her a sleeping potion that knocked her out for a couple of days. She had woken up feeling like she'd been reset. Without such severe exhaustion, everything became much more manageable. That was until the end of term started approaching and anxiety about returning home had begun building.

The station platform was a lot clearer now. Hagrid was patrolling around telling the final groups of stragglers to hurry up and board; the train would be leaving in a few minutes. Asha's hands were clammy and she could feel her heartbeat in her teeth. She willed herself to get on a carriage but her feet wouldn't move. There were now only a handful of students left who had not yet boarded and Hagrid was moving towards her end of the platform. In a split-second decision, she whipped out her wand and cast a disillusionment charm. A sense of relief washed over Asha as she watched her body melt into the wall behind her. A steam whistle sounded and the train heaved forward as Hagrid helped a final student pull his truck through the carriage doors.

The loud rumbling and chugging of the Hogwarts Express eventually died away, leaving the empty station eerily quiet. Hagrid returned to the Thestrals drawn carriages and began herding them back around the lake, towards the castle. Once he was out of sight Asha lifted the disillusionment charm and faced her predicament. _What the hell had she just done_. _Why couldn't she just suck it up and get on the train. What the fuck was she thinking: she would just live on the streets of Hogsmeade for six weeks?!_ Once again, Asha felt as if her very existence had become exhausting. Despite the fact her new plan of attack was apparently to live like a vagabond on the streets of Hogsmeade for six weeks, she couldn't help feeling intensely relieved that, at least for now, she wouldn't have to return to the Home.

Asha decided that since everyone from Hogwarts had gone home, it would be safe to hunker down at the Three Broomsticks for the time being. The inn wasn't too crowded since it was only 11 am. She tried her luck and asked for a glass of Firewhisky but the barwoman only responded with a disapproving scowl, so Asha ordered two Butterbeers instead. With her trunk in one hand and wand in the other, she instinctively levitated the drinks over to a back table before suddenly realising she shouldn't be using magic.

The butterbeer warmed Asha's insides and calmed her down. She stubbornly decided not to worry about what she would do when eventually it started getting dark, and instead spent the next couple hours sipping Butterbeer and browsing through a copy of the Daily Prophet someone had left lying on the table. She had just spotted a small column highlighting the success of Britain's Charles Weasley in becoming a registered drogonologist at the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary when a scuffling sound began to pull at Asha's attention. For a moment she tried to dismiss the sound, just as she was ignoring all the other noises of the inn. But seconds later she realised she knew that shuffling sound all too well and, before she could think better of it, she whipped her head up and watched as a hunched figure cradling a scrawny black cat moved over to the bar, his eyes lazily scanning the room. Before Asha had time to react, their eyes locked. _Oh shit._

"Well, well. What do have here then, aye? A student who missed the train home?" Argus Filch's eyes twinkled maliciously. "I've been telling Dumbledore for years that that big oaf doesn't keep a close enough eye on you nasty brats! You better follow me, girl. Oh, Flitwick won't be happy when he realises he's going to have to organise your trip home, oh, no, no, no."

To Asha's confusion, instead of leading her on the long trek back around the Black Lake, Filch shuffled his way up the street towards Honeydukes.

"Why are we-" Asha began.

"Oh, you'll see. You students think you know everything. Think you can hide your Belch Pellets and Dung Bombs where I won't find them. Hah! Well, I'll tell you I know that castle better than anyone. Been here over 25 years and there ain't so much as a loose brick I ain't found." Filtch entered the sweet shop and proceeded down into the cellar, Asha dragging her trunk in his wake. Concealed behind a stack of barrels was a small but heavy wooden door. Filch hauled it open, Mrs Noris still tucked protectively under one arm, and picked up a lit lantern from just inside.

"In you go my dear," Filch said with a strange air of pride. Asha gave him a calculating look. He still looked ecstatic to have caught a student redhanded. She shrugged and entered the small dark tunnel. She walked through the passage, listening to the caretaker's raspy breath following close behind her. After about a hundred meters Asha slowed to approach what seemed to be the end of the tunnel. Suddenly there was the sound of rumbling and scraping rock. A crack of light grew into an opening that was just large enough for Asha to squeeze herself and her trunk through.

" _What?_ " Asha exclaimed under her breath. To her amazement they were standing in the Hogwarts corridors, having just emerged from behind the statue of the one-eyed witch. She realised they must've walked through some kind of geographic compression charm because it should have taken at least ten minutes to walk all the way back to the castle. _That lazy git! Every winter he watches students stumble miserably through the freezing snow to get to Hogsmeade, while he gets to use this cosy portal of a passageway! Well she'd sure as hell be using it from now on._

As if he read her mind, Filch leered, "Now don't be getting any ideas, girl. I'm the only one who knows the password to get through from this side so I doubt you'll be seeing the walls of that passage again." Asha watched grumpily as the hump of the statue slid back into place. "Now, with some luck, Flitwick won't have left yet".

They made their way down the corridor and turned a corner, only to come face to face with Snape. It seemed he was on his way out of the castle; an old trunk was trailing magically behind him. He looked to be in a slightly better mood than usual, but that quickly changed as he registered the pair in front of him. Now he looked annoyed. He gave Asha a quizzical look before addressing Filch.

"What's she doing here?"

"Found 'er holed up in the Three Broomsticks, Professor". Snape's eyes narrowed and he glanced suspiciously at the young witch. Filch continued, "I was on my way to take her to Professor Flitwick".

"He's already gone" Snape stated coldly. The leer faded from the caretaker's face but returned a second later, his eyes shining with an even more malevolent gleam.

"Well, perhaps you'll have to deal with her, Professor." There was a heavy silence.

"Fine. With me, Winters," ordered Snape and he strode off down the corridor, not bothering to check whether or not she was following, his trunk bobbing in his wake. Asha's mouth had gone dry again and her hands clammy. _He would definitely send her back to the Home. In fact, since he would likely apparate her there, she'd probably arrive a couple of hours earlier than if she had caught the train..._

As they reached the potions classroom, Snape waved his hand and the door swung open. Asha hardly noticed where they were as she followed him in. He pulled a black sack out of his robes and began fossicking through the ingredients cupboard.

"What in Merlin's name are you still doing here, Winters?" Snape drawled tiredly, grabbing a miscellaneous bottle and stuffing it in the sack. "I thought I had finally reached that merciful time of year where I don't have to set eyes on a single pesky student for a full six weeks." He glanced at Asha and she looked away. What could she tell him? She still desperately did _not_ want to go back to the Home.

"I.." She trailed off. Those sickening memories started flashing through her mind again like a slideshow of horror. A lump was rising in her throat and she could feel her heart pounding once again. Yet her expression stayed blank. She desperately didn't want him to see the distress she was in. No way would she ever make herself vulnerable like that again. But her legs were starting to feel weak and tingly. She sat down in the nearest chair and placed her folded arms on the desk in front of her, gaze directed ahead at the potion-stained stone floor. She could feel Snape's eyes on her. She knew she needed to come up with something to say but it was like her mind was a jammed machine, unable to function properly. Snape stopped rummaging through ingredients and pulled up a chair a couple of meters away.

"Asha," he said, suddenly serious, "what's going on? Tell me." His voice was calm but direct. Asha's chest tightened and her face felt strangling fuzzy. _She actually couldn't pull herself together. Now, this was a terrifying feeling._ She shuffled uncomfortably in her seat and brought her hands up to her forehead, elbows still propped on the desk. Then, realising that covering her face was a clear display of weakness, she quickly brought her hands back down and gripped the back edge of the desk, as if she were bracing herself to be jinxed. She hauled her gaze up to meet his. Snape's expression was unreadable, though at least it wasn't angry. Something about his controlled, disciplined, no-nonsense aura gave Asha the strength she needed to speak.

"I can't go back to the Foster Home".

Snape's stare became more piercing.

"And why is that?"

Asha felt sick to her stomach. She swallowed and looked away, staring at the jars lining the walls. She couldn't bear to look at him because she was so ashamed. So guilty. So sickened by herself and so, so angry at herself. Then she had a thought.

"Can I stay here over the summer?" She looked at him, unable to keep the hope and desperation out of her eyes. "I can look after myself and I swear I won't even set a foot outside the castle!"

"No. The headmaster doesn't allow students to stay ov-".

Asha interrupted in desperation: "No that's not true! I've heard that some years Dumbledore has let students who were failing their classes stay - to give them a chance to practice magic over the break."

"I said _no_ " Snape stated firmly. Asha went quiet. "Besides, the headmaster is travelling for the next two weeks and I'm not sure any of the staff are staying in the castle this summer. I was about to apparate home. You will come with me to the Hogwarts Gates and I'll apparate you to the Foster Home." Asha couldn't bring her self to reply so she just gave a stiff nod.

The walk to the Gates took far shorter than Asha would've liked. It was a hot summer's afternoon so Snape had removed his cloak and carried it draped over his left forearm. They stopped just outside the gates and he held out his right arm. When Asha failed to notice he sighed and drawled "Take my arm, Winters, and tell me where it is I'm taking you".

"Huh?" Asha had been staring off into the hills, worrying about what Madeline would do when she saw her. _What could Asha even say to her that would be of any worth_? "Oh, right, sorry." Snape watched as Asha hesitated, considering his outstretched arm. He saw her hand make a subtle twitch as if to grab her wand as she cast a furtive glance at the forest bordering the road.

"Don't even try it, Winters. I guarantee even you wouldn't last one day in that forest. Now tell me the address." His baritone voice was now laced with ice. When she didn't reply he said "What is it that is waiting at that Foster Home of yours that is so formidable it could actually phase the fearless Asha Winters? Is there a big, bad bully or two?" She knew he was trying to provoke the truth out of her now. She squared her shoulders and looked him dead in the eyes. He was only a few inches taller than her. Despite her combative stance, her voice came out quiet and frail.

"I can't go back there. Just, not yet. Not right now. I _won't_ do it" Asha could feel that terrible sensation of prickling behind her eyes. She squared her jaw. "I _can't_ do it. _Please_ ".

"Well, what would you have me do then?!" he snapped. His words rang out in the air. _She didn't know. This was all her fault. She should have at least taken the train back to London and stayed at a backpackers - then again she wasn't old enough to do that without a supervisor..._ "Fine!" he hissed. He grabbed her arm and turned on the spot.


	9. Abersoch

Everything went black and Asha felt as if she were being compressed into an infinitely small space, unable to breathe while an invisible hand plunged through her stomach and wrenched her forward by her spine. Then, with an ear-splitting crack, light and space burst back into existence. Snape released his grip and Asha tumbled forward into a wall. She gasped for air and doubled over feeling like she was going to be sick. Fortunately, due to the nauseating anxiety of going back to the Home, she had eaten scarcely anything in days so there was nothing to come up.

"Out of the way," Snape grumbled, pushing past her. What she had thought was a wall turned out to be a door. A door to a quaint, single-storey cottage. Asha spun around. There were a few other houses dotted across the rolling hills of the countryside, and down the road was a cluster of old buildings that Asha assumed made up the village centre.

"Where are we?" Asha asked.

"Abersoch," Snape called back from inside the cottage, "Wales." _Wales!!_ Asha continued to scan her surroundings. "Do you plan to stand there all day?" Snape grumbled. Wearily, Asha stepped over the threshold with her trunk and closed the door behind her. Snape had thrown his cloak over the arm of a couch and was waving his wand. His seemingly bottomless trunk was open on the living room floor. Cupboard doors and drawers were flying open, as books, clothes, and other miscellaneous items flew through the air, landing neatly on shelves or disappearing to other parts of the house.

Asha looked around. It was a modest and minimalistic abode with brick walls and hardwood floors. Apart from the bookshelves that lined the walls, the only furniture in the living room was a couch, an armchair, a coffee table, and a dark green rug. The kitchen and dining area was at the other end of the house through a wide archway and provided a breathtaking panoramic view of the surrounding countryside. There were no photos or sentimental items to be seen.

The room grew quiet as the last of Snape's belongings nestled themselves into their designated places. Asha stared at him in disbelief. _Did he expect her to stay here? In his house?? With him???_ Then, unable to suppress her curiosity, Asha wandered further into the living room and began to inspect the contents of the shelves. His book collection was certainly something to admire, not to mention the content looked far more interesting than what was available in the Hogwarts library; _An Analysis of the Unconventional Dueling Strategies of the 18th Century, Theories on Goblin-Made Ironwork, A Curation of Lesser-Known Counter-Curses, Dark Alchemy and its Contributions to the Search for the Universal Solvent..._ Asha's eyes were drawn to a heavy, ancient-looking tome. The ink-black leather was cracking and there was no title on the spine, just the subtle indent of a coiling snake. She raised her hand to draw the book from the shelf.

"Do _not_ touch that," came a deadly growl. Hand still raised, Asha turned her head slowly to look at Snape, one eyebrow ever so slightly raised. He had his arms folded across his chest as his eyes bore holes through her very being. Gently, she lowered her arm.

Snape spoke slowly, punctuating every consonant. "While you are here you will not touch _any_ of these books. Do you understand?" Asha kept her face expressionless but her eyes twinkled with curiosity and she scanned the shelves once more.

"Yes," she conceded before quickly adding "-Professor".

"You can put your trunk in there" he ordered, flicking his wand at a door on her left, "And _don't_ get comfortable. I have to go out and tend to some business for which, thanks to you, I am already late. But when I return we'll be sorting out where you're going. Do not leave this house - I will know if you do". And with that, he snatched his coat up off the couch and stormed out of the house. He was definitely regretting bringing her here. There was a _crack_ and Asha was alone.

The room on the left contained a single bed, a set of dark wooden drawers, and a matching bedside table. The walls were covered in a plain cream wallpaper and at the back of the room there was a casement window that provided a 'glorious' view of a fieldstone wall that was too tall to see over.

She didn't want to be here. She hated the fact she was nothing but a _burden_ , yet she was too _weak_ to do anything about it. She didn't want to stay, but she couldn't bring herself to leave. Her whole body was swirling with loathing. A dark, twisted, malevolent loathing - for _herself_. There was no escape. There was no way out when it was herself that was blocking the path. Suddenly she could feel the weight of the infant in her arms...

_Panic flooded through her body as she strained to hear the baby's faint, wheezing breaths._

_'We need to get help, something's not right!' Asha urged._

_'No Ash! They'll take him away!"_

_"Give me your phone!" Asha heard herself shout. "Mad! Your phone! Now!"_

_"I don't have it," sobbed the girl, "I dropped it as we were running onto the bus. What are we going to do, Ash!" Her wails rang out across the deserted landscape. Asha's mind was racing at one hundred miles an hour._

_"There was a house, a couple of miles back, remember? We can get help there. Come on Mad, stand up, please!"_

An infuriating ringing was crescendoing in Asha's ears. She fell forward against the window and gripped the sill with one hand, her other clenched in a fist at her side. She stared at the sill at and willed herself back to the present. A droplet splashed down on to the wood and she realised she had tears streaming down her face. Her emotion was too overwhelming to comprehend. It was a raging storm of anger, grief, shame, loneliness... Asha felt a hot sensation course through her veins towards the hand clenched at her side. Her fingers flexed violently and a strong sensation pierced the side of her thigh. She gasped and stumbled backwards, twisting to look at her leg. There was a dark shadow spreading on the side of her black jeans and the whole area felt strangely hot. She pressed her fingers to the side of her thigh and they came away wet and red. Feeling totally bewildered, she unbuttoned her trousers and pushed them to her knees. A 6-inch-long gash ran up the side of her thigh, deep and inflamed. It was at that point Asha realized the sensation she had been feeling was _pain_.

She grabbed a t-shirt from her trunk and sat down on the edge of the bed, pressing the fabric to the wound to stop blood running on to the bedsheets. Although, strangely there was not as much blood as she would've expected from a cut of that size. She sat in silence and observed how the pain pulsed with her heartbeat. It was an all-consuming pain, and for that reason, it was calming. Her attention was locked to the physical sensations of her body, rather than the torment of her mind. Her breathing slowed and the ringing in her ears died away. She felt infinitely calmer.

After ten minutes, Asha had acclimatised to the throbbing pain and the wound had started to clot. She tied a white tank top tightly around her thigh, pulled up her jeans, and lay back on the bed. _How had she done that?_ Her jeans hadn't ripped so it had to have been magic. In her first year at Hogwarts, Asha's friends had talked about how they had accidentally used magic when they were younger. It tended to happen when they were angry or scared but it was only little things; making a light flicker or making the ground soft as they fell over. She could think of times when she and Cole had done it too. This must've been a more severe version of that. She gave a sardonic laugh. Trust her to manage to do something so childish and inexperienced.Still, Asha welcomed her newly established inner calm. Her eyelids grew heavy and soon her reality dissolved as she sank into a much-needed sleep.

Dusk had fallen by the time Asha awoke to the sound of the front door slamming shut. The cottage was filled with sounds of thumping and clinking as Snape unloaded items into the kitchen and back rooms. After a few minutes, a lean, dark figure emerged in Asha's doorway.

"There's food if you want it," he stated, barely giving her a glance before sweeping out of sight. It was at that moment Asha realized she was _starving_. She jumped to her feet. A pain shot up her right leg and she examined the raised, dark patch on her jeans. She dug a school robe out of her trunk and pulled it on. It was open at the front and hung loosely around her slender frame, but did its job of concealing the side of her thigh.

Strolling into the dining area, Asha noticed Snape eyeing her strange choice of attire, but he refrained from making any snide remarks. He was standing in the kitchen, tinkering with what looked like a silver compass attached to a small vile of gold liquid. Asha hesitantly approached the counter. She endured the potion master's usual cold stare as she reached into the bag of sandwiches and pulled one out. She refused to break the silence in the hope of delaying the imminent conversation about her living situation. She glanced at him before turning on her heel and heading back to her room.

" _Why_ are you limping?" she heard him call from behind her. Asha spun around.

"What? ... I'm not," she replied with convincing sincerity.

"You are."

" _I'm not!"._ His eyes panned down to her lower legs which were visible under her robe. "There's nothing wrong with my feet!" she exclaimed.

"I can see that" he replied coldly. She had turned to leave when all of a sudden Snape lunged at her with uncharacteristic speed. He whipped her cloak aside, revealing her right leg.

"Hey!" She tried to pull away but he was gripping her firmly by the fabric at her waist. His eyes narrowed as he registered the dark, raised bloodstain on her jeans.

"What is this?" he growled. _Shit._

"I scratched myself."

"You _scratched_ yourself."

"Yes. On the corner of a draw"

With his free hand, Snape pulled out his wand and flicked it in a circular motion. The portion of Asha's jeans soaked in blood, as well as the make-shift bandage beneath, dissolved into the air and vanished, leaving the deep, oozing gash exposed. Asha winced as the cool air washed over the wound.

" _What have you done!"_ he hissed, "I leave you alone for one second!"

"It's nothing!" she insisted. He released her and pointed at the couch.

"Sit," he commanded. Asha reluctantly discarded her robe on the armchair and plonked herself on the living room couch, arms crossed.

"I would've fixed it myself if we were allowed to use magic," she grumbled.

"Don't talk such rubbish," Snape snapped, "You don't learn healing spells until sixth year!" He hesitated and narrowed his eyes at her. "Or is this just another skill you've supposedly taught yourself, along with non-verbal magic and disillusionment charms?"

Asha had actually performed healing charms before - Maive was a Hufflepuff chaser this year and had let Asha practice on her whenever she got a hit by a bludger - but she kept her mouth shut.

Snape knelt down in front of the couch, pressed the tip of his wand into the skin adjacent to the gash, and muttered " _Medeor epidermide"._ Nothing happened. Snape furrowed his brow and scowled, looking up at Asha suspiciously. "What _exactly_ did you do, Asha?" he said slowly and seriously. She swallowed sheepishly.

"Er... I think... I think I may have accidentally used some magic." She could feel her face growing hot but she stubbornly held his gaze. His expression quickly changed to that of anger as he snarled through gritted teeth.

"Do I need to confiscate that wand of yours, Winters?You are underage! How many times do you have to be told not- "

"No! I didn't use my wand! It wasn't on purpose! You think I'd do this on purpose!?" The potions master glared at her astutely. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. "I'm not lying," Asha insisted, "I know accidental magic's a thing, my friends have told me about it! Except usually it only happens to... to kids." Asha's voice trailed off in embarrassment. Still on one knee, Snape returned his gaze to her leg. He pressed his wand firmly to her skin once more, this time into the corner of the gash. Asha grimaced at the searing pain but didn't move.

" _Medeor epidermide"_ he said in a clearer, stronger voice. Once again, nothing happened. He stood up looking perplexed and ran a hand through his hair. "No. This can't have been merely accidental. Causing harm on such a scale requires accurate, potent, and deliberate magic. It's almost impossible to achieve something like this without a wand, let along an incantation." He rolled his wand between his finger and stared off into space, apparently deep in thought. After a minute or two, he spoke again. "I've never seen a wound quite like it. Whatever magic caused this is actively minimizing the bleeding, yet repelling the healing spell. Are you sure you are telling me the truth, Winters?"

"Yes," Asha replied, though her voice was distant. _Of course she had managed to give herself an unhealable cut! Why fucking not! Causing harm just seemed to be her style apparently._ She looked up into Snape's coal-black eyes and suddenly felt an odd tugging sensation at the base of her skull. Images from a few hours ago - being braced against the window and flexing her hand - flickered translucently in front of her eyes. She experienced brief flashes of the accompanying emotions and the sensation of magic coursing through her veins into her hand. Asha gasped and stood up, breaking eye contact. "What the fuck!?"

"Language, Winters" Snape drawled, though he was looking a little startled. "Sit down" he snapped and pushed her back down onto the couch by her shoulder. "I wonder..." He crouched down once more and this time positioned his wand inches from her skin and murmured " _Vulnera sanentur_ ". Instantly the blood began to absorb back into her skin and the inflammation dissipated. The split flesh began to press together, though the skin did not knit itself together seamlessly like Asha had seen other healing spells achieve. Snape grunted in disapproval.

"Looks pretty good to me," Asha offered. Snape stood up, crossed his arms, and surveyed her.

"Go and sit out on the porch" he ordered, striding out of the room before she could argue.

A slide-door in the kitchen lead out onto a small porch with a wooden railing. Asha sat down on one of the chairs and admired the bucolic view. The sky was a burning red and the trees that peppered the fields had elongated shadows. After a few minutes, Snape returned holding a small vial containing a deep purple liquid.

"Oh, don't waste that on me," Asha protested, "You've healed the worst of it".

"And it won't heal any further unless we treat it now." He uncorked the vial and immediately a sharp, putrid odour filled the air.

"I can see why you made me go out outside," Asha said, scrunching up her face.

"This will hurt" Snape announced, glaring at her warningly. Asha rolled her eyes. He leaned over and poured the entire contents of the bottle over her wound. Asha jerked and gripped the edges of her chair. It felt like someone had doused her leg in gasoline and dropped a lit match. After ten seconds of gruelling agony, the pain subsided and no evidence of the injury remained. Asha slumped back in her chair. She watched the orange sun disappearing behind the distant hills and propped her feet up an adjacent chair. Snape leaned against the railing, also staring out at the horizon.

"At some point, you're going to have to tell me what's going on, Asha" He said softly. She didn't reply.


	10. The Black Book

**A/N: Black lives matter. It's a simple concept but the prejudice and discrimination in society is ingrained and often camouflaged, meaning we** **_all_ ** **have to think and work hard to create change.**

*****

Something about the spell Snape had cast on Asha's leg that evening, or perhaps the wandless magic she had accidentally performed, had worn her out. She and the potions master had sat on the porch in silence until the sky was full of glittering stars. Asha had a sneaking suspicion he had just wanted to keep an eye on her to ensured she didn't do anything else stupid. When she eventually could no longer keep her eyes open, she mumbled "Goodnight" and slumped off to bed. Next thing she knew, light was streaming through the spare room window and a kettle was whistling from the other room.

Still wearing her clothes from the previous night (to her annoyance, Snape had not offered to fix the large hole now occupying the side of her jeans), Asha hauled herself out of bed and wearily made her way to the kitchen. Snape was lounging at the dining table, his face concealed behind this morning's copy of the Daily Profit. Asha, hands in pockets, stood awkwardly in the archway and made her presence known by clearing her throat.

"Yes," Snape drawled, not bothering to look up. Asha stubbornly waited for him to remove his face from the newspaper. Finally, he sighed and irritably dropped the paper into his lap, eyeing her with his usual cold expression. Asha had to bite back a smirk - she knew it was wrong to push his buttons, but it gave her a kick to exert any small amount of power over this usually omnipotent professor.

"Could I please use your shower?" she asked.

He grunted in assent and returned to the Daily Profit, waving his hand lazily which caused the bathroom door on her right to swing open.

After her shower, Asha pulled on a pair of secondhand cargo pants and a fitted black T-shirt. She instinctively went to dry her hair with her wand before remembering magic was off-limits and instead manually bundled it up into a damp mess on top of her head. She then opened her window and inhaled the fresh country air. The desire to use magic was bubbling within her and she needed a distraction. She wanted to ask Snape if she could go for a walk around the village but didn't want to provoke him into sending her home sooner than she could help it. Plus, she had a strong premonition that the answer would be no.

Instead, she pulled the third year herbology textbook out of her trunk and settled herself in the frame of the window, one leg dangling off the outside ledge. This was the only one of her textbooks she hadn't read in its entirety. She had been very interested in the sections on identifying magical flora and their properties and uses, however that only made up one-third of the book. The rest was all focused on _growing_ the plants - their lifecycle, cultivation methods, required environmental conditions, etcetera. Asha found this information exceedingly dull, and as a result, had not done very well in that section of the class.

Half an hour later, after accidentally re-reading the same paragraph about five times, Asha threw the book aside in defeat. She hopped down from the window and began pacing the room. She was itching to pick up her wand, which lay tempting her on the oak dresser. Of course, she had experienced the urge to do magic during previous holidays, but nothing this severe. This year she had spent any free moment absent-mindedly transfiguring quills, casting various charms on books or firing hexes into thin air. Now, it was like her whole body was yearning for the flow of magic, craving the satisfaction of control and manipulation. The pacing seemed to be helping though. Maybe she'd eventually tire herself out...

"Do you plan on stomping back and forth all afternoon?" growled a voice from the doorway. Having been staring determinately at her own feet to avoid looking at her wand, Asha hadn't even noticed Snape appear. "I am trying to _work_ and it's rather difficult when it sounds like a Hippogriff is rampaging through my house!" He had his arms crossed and was leaning against the door frame, staring daggers.

"Sorry," Asha mumbled and sat on the bed. But, a second later, she shot back up again and resumed pacing, fidgeting with her hands now too. "I can't stop - I've got this... sort of itch... to do magic. It's like I'm an addict with withdrawal symptoms. I need to distract myself". A troubled look flashed across Snape's face so fast Asha wondered if she had seen it at all.

"Perhaps returning to your Foster Home will provide an adequate distraction," he mocked. Asha's chest lurched and she stared at him. Perhaps he saw a hint of fear on her face because he sighed and said, "Fine. You can select some books to read".

He led her into the living room.

"You may choose from _this_ shelf _only_. _Nothing_ from over there." He indicated the shelf that housed the mysterious, snake-embossed book.

"Why not?" Asha questioned before she could stop herself.

" _Because I said so,_ " he said, his tone razor-sharp, "think of it as the restricted section of the library. Though, as I recall, you don't have much respect for those rules either." She had the decency to blush. He scowled. "So much as _touch_ one of those books and you'll be out on the streets before you can say quidditch!" Snape ignored her look of pained curiosity at the forbidden shelf and returned to where he was working at the dining table.

Feeling her longing to do magic returning, Asha turned her attention to the books she was permitted to touch. This selection looked disappointingly similar to what was offered at the Hogwarts library. She ran her figure along the waist-high shelf and picked out a book at random. _Incantations of the Early 17th Century._ She flicked through the book, saw it was filled with spells that she would be desperate to try out, and immediately put it back. Instead, she grabbed a brown, leather book with a gold embossed dragon on the spine from the top shelf.

She thought about returning to her room, but, as much as she didn't want to admit it, something about being able to sense Snape's presence in the dining room made her feel grounded. Despite his aloof manner, being close to him somehow made her feel more secure and guarded against her inner demons. Revolted by the idea she was becoming the slightest bit reliant on another human, she pushed the thought from her mind. On a totally unrelated note, she still decided to sit on the couch rather than return to her room.

For the remainder of that morning, Asha sat reading about different species of dragons and listening to the comforting sounds of the scratching of Snape's quill, the shuffling of parchment and the occasional clinking of jars coming from the dining room. At around mid-day, Snape came striding into the living room where Asha was curled up on the couch and donned his cloak.

"I've got some errands to run," he said, "Do not, under _any_ circumstances, leave this house."

"So you're saying, even if a swarm of demen-"

Snape cut her off by slamming the front door. Without thinking, Asha's eyes immediately swung to the black, snake-stamped book on the off-limits shelf. _Don't be stupid, he's doing you a huge favour right now,_ said the sensible voice in her head. _It'll just be a little peak! Besides, what he doesn't know can't hurt him,_ said a more convincing voice. Asha jumped up, discarding _Dragons - Beautiful and Dangerous by Edwardus Lima_ on the couch, and cast a nervous look at the front door. Snape had definitely disapparated, hadn't he? She hadn't listened for the crack. After a few seconds of standing, frozen in place like a cat waiting to pounce, she closed the distance between her and the bookshelf and pulled the dark tome from between its similarly worn and ancient-looking peers. It was heavy and the leather of the blank front cover was faded and cracked. Feeling a rush of excitement, Asha dropped down onto the deep green rug and opened the book to the first page.

_A COMPENDIUM OF THE DARKEST ARTS_

Asha's heart was beating hard in her chest. What was the Hogwarts potions professor doing with a book like this? She had heard that Snape had always wanted the DADA job over potions, but _Defence_ Against the Dark Arts was very different to the Dark Arts themselves. Asha had always had a secret fascination for dark magic - not because of the horrific, inhumane things it was capable of, but because it pushed the limits of magic itself, always evolving.

Asha turned to a random page and began reading:

_...another form of Black Magic is Siphoning, in which another's energy can be taken by force and affixed to the sorcerer's own entity, thus extending the limit of sole magical power..._

Asha was immediately engrossed. She couldn't pull her eyes away from the page. The book felt as if it had a presence, a presence Asha was innately drawn to, just as she'd been drawn to it on the day she arrived in Abersoch. It was alluring because of it's forbidden territory. It was sickeningly fascinating. Just one more page...

_... often incorrectly associated with the Imperius Curse, Voodoo is a form of control over a being by the application of a physical force on the body, rather than control of the mind..._

She found herself both repulsed and unable to look away. The more she read, the more her expectations of what magic was capable of were transcended. This next page would definitely be the last one...

_...few wizards have achieved true Necromancy. The summoning of spirits is extremely unstable and dangerous; generating and maintaining a split in the skin between realms immensely drains one's energy source and if done passed capacity can lead to disintegration of the soul..._

This book was definitely not Ministry approved. How had Snape got hold of such a thing? Was he, unbeknownst to Dumbledore, a sick, sadistic dark wizard? Or did he feel the same way she felt - entranced by the unexplored and unfathomable potential of magic?

_... to successfully cause the suffering of others through ritualistic use of Verum Afflictionem, one must inflict an equal or greater amount of pain on one's self. Only then will the victims' agony be true, as a pertinent price has been paid..._

Something moved in Asha's peripheral vision but she hardly registered it. Suddenly a black, leather boot landed on the royal green rug, an inch in front of the dark tome. It sliced through Asha's hypnotic state and she jumped so violently that she banged her elbow on the corner of the bookshelf and yelped. _Why had she not heard the front door open!?_ The room was considerably darker than she remembered it. _How could it be dusk already!?_ Asha slowly moved her gaze up from the laced boots; the dark trousers, the fitted buttoned coat, the cloak draped over one forearm, upturned collar... to the unreadable face of Severus Snape. She met his eyes. They were burning with an intensity Asha had never seen before. His impenetrable stare moved from her mortified face to the leather-bound book lying on the rug, open to a page containing a grotesque image depicting the corpse of an Inferius being merged with the body of a Muggle. Asha thought she was going to be sick. _Shit, shit, shit what the fuck was she doing!? She'd really gone a_ _nd_ _revealed her sick, twisted self now. A third year Hufflepuff girl should not be avidly reading an illegal book about the Dark Arts, curses and Black Magic._

After what felt like an eternity of cowering in the shadow of Snape's motionless, looming figure, he finally took action. He crouched down, slid his long figures under the cover of the book, and slammed it shut, making Asha jump for a second time. He grasped the spine of the book and slid it towards him. His face now inches from her own, Asha forced herself to look at him and tried to gauge what he was thinking; the level of rage he was somehow suppressing. Something in his jet-black eyes sent a shiver down her spine.

He stood up, clutching the book in his left hand, and silently swept from the living room and out of sight, leaving a horrified, pale-faced Asha, still sitting on the floor. She let out a shaky breath, only now realising the racing of her heart. _He was going to kick her out. She was going to be expelled. They were going to snap her wand._ The regret was suffocating. There was nothing she could do to make this right. At that moment, she hated herself so completely. _Why did she have to be her?_ She felt the terrible sensation of prickling behind her eyes.

It took a huge amount of effort to stand up; as if she had bones of lead. Asha took a deep breath, swallowed her emotions and walked numbly to her room.


	11. Secrets on the Wall

**A/N: Prepare yourselves for a** **_looong_ ** **chapter! I hope it's kinda interesting but most of it's not super relevant to anything (oops) so feel free to skim read :P But hopefully you enjoy it!**

*****

At 1:47 am, after hours of willing herself not to break any more rules, Asha succumbed to her usual need to get out in the open in times of distress. She unlatched her bedroom window and silently jumped down onto the dewy grass below. Trailing around past the kitchen window to the back of the house, she slid down the short but steep slope of damp grass. She then climbed up the six-foot-high fieldstone wall and settled in for a long night of inescapable thinking.

Here in the Welsh countryside, the stars were almost as vivid and dense as at Hogwarts. The only sounds were the faint rustling of nocturnal animals along the branches of nearby trees, the occasional lowing of distant cows, and the chirping of a single cricket somewhere to Asha's left. But the calm, clear night did not at all reflect what Asha was feeling inside.

She was absent-mindedly scraping a stick along the rough surface of the wall upon which she sat, staring out at the star-lit landscape. Her mind was whirring. Snape had invited her into his home, fed her, even healed her leg. And how had she repaid him? By directly disobeying him, disrespecting him, breaking his trust. The guilt was gnawing at her insides like a flesh-eating slug. _What the hell is wrong with you?_ she thought for the hundredth time _._ She gritted her teeth and scraped the stick against the rough stone with even more vigour. _Why couldn't you just act like a normal human for five fucking minutes?_ She snapped the stick in half and flung both pieces into the darkness of the surrounding field as if trying to ceremoniously rid herself of the toxic feelings within. Sighing and placing her hands on her forehead in frustration, she lay back along the top of the wall. A second later she bolted upright and squinted into the gloom behind her. At what point had that cricket stopped chirping?

"You sure seem to make a habit of these late-night excursions don't you?" came that droning voice she knew all too well.

Whipping her head around in the opposite direction, Asha saw a tall, dark figure leaning against the edge of the cottage. She felt a sinking sensation in her chest, bit her lip and turned back around to face the countryside. Snape walked down the slope and pulled himself up onto the wall with surprising agility for a man who usually moves with such a stiff demeanour. He was wearing dark sweat pants and a thin, black long sleeve and his hair was more ruffled than usual. Settling a couple meters away from Asha, he sat with one leg dangling over the edge of the wall and the other propped up, his arm resting on his knee.

It was several minutes before Asha worked up the courage to break the silence. As though he somehow knew she was about to speak, Snape turned to look at her. Even in the dead of night his eyes were the deepest black to be seen. She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze so she stared out at the landscape and began fidgeting with a new stick.

"I'm not good at apologising," she said to the air, "or showing gratitude... Or showing anything really. Well, anything _real_ that is."

Snape said nothing. Asha took a deep breath.

"I know you deserve an explanation."

She cast the stick aside and hugged one of her knees to her chest. A couple more silent minutes passed as the potions master patiently waited for this clearly troubled girl to decide what she was willing to share. It took all of Asha's strength to keep her voice steady as she recounted the events that had been plaguing her all year.

"When I went back to the Foster Home last summer, one of the girls there was pregnant - Madeline. I didn't know her very well, I think she was about my age. I remembered her from summers previous as a happy kid, confident to the point of being obnoxious. But when I arrived, it was quite clear that she wasn't that same, bubbly girl. After finding out she was pregnant, the other kids at the Home had shafted her." Asha's mouth was dry. She could still hear the shouts of 'Whore!' and 'Street slut!' echoing down the hallway. But all that seemed like such a long time ago.

"I started telling the other kids to fuck off -" (she braced herself for Snape to pipe in with his usual 'Language, Winters!' but it never came) "-and giving her some company, and eventually going with her to her ultrasounds. We never talked about where the baby would go when it was born. Everyone knows that the babies of underage orphans get adopted out." Asha scoffed and grided her stick against the wall. "Fed back into the same system that landed their mother in this situation in the first place." For a moment her mind whisked off on a tangent about the blatant issues of the social welfare system, but the feeling of Snape's eyes boring into the side of her head brought her back to the present.

"Um, anyway, she went into labour in the middle of the night - two weeks early. She refused to go to the hospital without me. I sat with her in the hospital room for hours. At one point - I remember the nurse had just told us she was eight centimetres dilated - we got a moment when no one else was in the room. She immediately started begging me not to let them take her baby away. I had known this might happen. Of course, she'd feel that way. There wasn't anything I could say, I just held her and comforted her. She was hysterical but when the nurses came back in they assumed it was from the pain."

Asha finally looked over at Snape. She knew that once she continued there was no going back. _Was she really going to share what she swore no one would ever hear of?_ She did not know what kind of expression she had expected from him, but it certainly wasn't what she was met with. He was looking at her in a way that made her chest swirl and her eyes prickle. His intense, attentive expression felt like he was validating the severity of what she was sharing with him. And something in those calculating eyes made her feel like he knew what was coming. She pressed on.

"When the baby was finally born, it was a boy. He was ..." She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.

"I watched Madeline holding him and something in me just switched. It's like something possessed me - this feeling that I don't understand. I think maybe it was to do with... " Asha gripped the edge of the wall and tried to focus on the cool, sharp feeling in her palms. "It's just, I know how much it means to have that person; someone who's connected to you in a way that no one else can be. And... I know what it's like to lose the only family you've ever had."

At this point, Asha became oddly calm and numb. She was familiar with blocking out this source of pain.

"It's not an excuse, I know. I let my emotions blind my rational thought. I became consumed with this need to keep Madeline and her son together, because if they weren't together then what's the point of anything. So I planned it all out. The adoption agency was going to pick him up in 48 hours so while Madeline slept I stole painkillers and baby blankets and nappies and anything I could think of. I watched the nurse use a swipe card to get into the nursery and saw which cot she put Charlie in - that was what she named him, after her Dad. I figured out when security swapped shifts and how this all coincided with the timetable of the bus stop that was outside the nearest fire exit.

"Luckily Madeline could walk pretty comfortably by the time we ran for it. She said she had an uncle out in Ipswich who had been deemed unfit to be her guardian. But they wrote to each other every so often and she had been allowed to visit his house once. I figured he would be able to help her out.

"We caught the bus to the train station and boarded for the three-hour journey to Ipswich. Charlie was such a good baby. He hardly cried unless he was hungry. For the last bit of the journey to her uncle's house, we needed to walk about five kilometres down this country road. It was getting dark and cold and Mad was not in a good state so she finally let me carry Charlie. That's when I notice something wasn't right. He was wheezing and I realised he hadn't cried since we got off the train.

"After another ten minutes, it had gotten much worse. He wasn't breathing properly and his little lips were pale. Straight away I tried to get help but everything went wrong. There weren't any payphones for miles and Madeline was refusing to move. She was panicking and totally hysterical. I left the baby with her and sprinted back down the road to a house we had passed not long ago but it was deserted and there wasn't even a working landline or a radio."

Asha's anger at herself swelled as she spoke.

"I should've thought to try magic before I left them! But even then - I didn't know any kind of healing spells at the time. I put so much time into learning stupid jinxes and disillusionment charms, yet I hadn't once been bothered to learn a healing spell. If only I'd -" Asha felt her voice about to break and stopped. After a steadying breath, she continued.

"When I got back to Madeline she had gone quiet and I could tell before I even touched him that Charlie had died. He was so white and his little lips were blue. Mad didn't know though. Or she was refusing to believe it. The realisation of what I'd done hit me so hard and fast." Asha could remember the feeling in such vivid detail. And the way reality had seemed to unfold in front of her eyes. Madeline rocking and whispering to the silent, unmoving bundle of cloth.

"All I could do was focus on minimising the consequences. _My_ consequences I suppose. I tried to pretend the baby was still alive to keep Madeline calm but she didn't understand why we were going back home. In the end I used _tranquillium sedato._ I remembered reading about it somewhere but the use of the spell is supposedly frowned upon because it makes the target much more inclined to follow instructions they usually wouldn't. But I think I messed it up because it made her almost zombie-like."

Now Asha was feeling claustrophobic despite the hundreds of acres of open land ahead of her. She was in the midst of admitting one of her darkest secrets; her most heinous of crimes.

"By the time we got back to East Sussex, it was the middle of the night. I left Madeline in an alley with the baby still in her arms and used a payphone around the corner to call the police. Then I caught the bus back to the Home and told them I had come back from the bathroom to find Mad gone and had been looking everywhere for her. It was a shit story - I don't know why they believed me. I think part of me wanted to get caught, wanted to go to prison for what I had done. But evidently I was too selfish to take responsibility."

At this, Snape's lips parted slightly as if he were about to speak, but he stopped himself and continued to listen intently.

"Besides, I knew that the police knowing my involvement wouldn't change anything. Madeline's child was dead. She would tell them the farfetched story of my involvement and I would deny it. She would get a psychiatric evaluation and be determined to be not in a right state of mind. She would be sent back to the Home, broken."

At this point, Asha had gone numb. The pain was too much to comprehend.

"But it turns out she didn't even mention me to the authorities. Even after what I'd done, she protected me. That's what _good_ people do, not people like me. I left for Hogwarts before she was discharged from the Hospital.

Silence fell between the pair and the sounds of the night seemed to resurface. The cricket on the left had begun its chirp again.

"I still don't really know why I did it". Asha spoke more to herself now. She was fighting the tightness in her throat and night air was suddenly feeling muggy. "In the moment I was sure that nothing else mattered more. And... I think part of me also felt as if achieving this would fix a piece of me too. The part of me that always feels wrong and broken". Asha hadn't planned on sharing all this. She felt nauseous and exposed, but she remembered her story had a point and she needed to get to it.

"So, that's why I don't want to go back there. I don't want to see her. I'm scared to see the way she'll look at me. What happened was my fault. I am responsible for the death of her child and I'm too fucking weak to face what I did and look her in the eye."

Asha was afraid to look at the man beside her. Scared to see the disgust and condemnation in his eyes. But when she finally turned her head, his face had the same neutral intensity as before. As he turned away his eye's flickered with something she couldn't quite put her finger on. He had remained totally silent through her entire recollection, and only now, after a few moments, he finally spoke.

"You may stay. For now."

It took Asha a moment to process what he was talking about. Despite feeling a rush of gratitude, she couldn't bring herself to say thank you. It was like her lips were glued shut, adamant not to expose herself any further. Snape swung his legs around, getting ready to climb down from the wall, but paused, looking at the ground with furrowed brows and parted lips.

"Did you ever get any reprimand from the Ministry? What you did was a serious violation - underage magic _and_ performing it on a muggle." His tone wasn't reproachful, but curious.

"Well, no, I mean, no one saw me do it. We were in the middle of nowhere," Asha said, thinking this was rather obvious.

"Have you not heard of the _Trace Charm_?" Snape said in a tone similar to the one he used when pointing out one of his students had misread the potion instructions. "The Improper Use of Magic Office is notified if any magic is performed in the vicinity of an underage wizard. You should have received a letter almost immediately."

"Got lucky I guess," said Asha. Snape growled and slid off the wall, landing softly on the grass below.

" _Try_ to get some sleep, Winters," he said, not bothering to look back as he strode back up to the gloomy silhouette of the cottage.

Asha turned around and gazed out at the moon-lit rolling hills. Even though the feeling was totally illogical (because ultimately nothing had changed), Asha felt like the iron band around her chest had loosened slightly; it was a little easier to breathe; she felt the slightest bit lighter.


	12. The Potential of Potions

**A/N: I personally love this chapter :)) I hope you do too!**

*****

By the time Asha awoke the next day, the sun was already high in the sky. She had that sensation of sinking regret one often feels after a drunken night out. Dreading the inevitable prospect of looking Snape in the eye in the daylight, she tentatively poked her head out the bedroom door. Fortunately, there was no sign of the professor. Bundling up a towel and fresh clothes she headed to the bathroom, deciding she was in need of a long, scalding shower to cleanse herself of the feeling of her exposed dirty secrets plastered on her skin.

It was mid-afternoon by that time Snape arrived home. Asha was sitting at the dining table gnawing at day-old bread roll she'd found in the pantry. He threw his cloak across the living room armchair and strode into the kitchen, dumping a stack of tattered textbooks in front of Asha.

"What's this?" Asha asked. Clearly in no hurry to answer, Snape waved his wand at the kettle which instantly began to boil, and levitated a mug out of the cupboard.

"You seem to do rather well academically," Snape drawled, eyeing her shrewdly, "with the exception of Potions."

Asha gave him a sheepish look before replying, "Yeah, well that's because I don't..." Snape was giving her a cold look. "... Potions isn't... I just don't find it as, er, _interesting_ as other subjects," Asha finished. Snape seemed to swell with annoyance. He plucked his newly brewed cup of tea from the air in front of him and glowered at her.

"Potions can provide effects far more potent, be it beneficial or dangerous, than that of any spell," he said coldly. "The art is complex and anyone who develops advanced skill has exceedingly more power and opportunity than those who lack the talent or discipline required. I know, Winters, that you are sharp enough to recognise the potential and precedence of potion brewing. Your disinterest in the subject simply stems from a lack of patience, focus, and willingness to apply yourself."

"Yes exactly! I'm glad you understand," Asha replied cheerfully. Snape had brought his cup of tea to his lips but paused at these words before lowering the cup once more.

"Excuse me?" said Snape, an eyebrow raised threateningly.

"Well, you're right. Of course I understand the potential of potion brewing. And my lack of enthusiasm to learn about it is totally illogical. But I can't help it. It's not the same as casting magic." Asha felt a familiar buzz of excitement. " _Real_ magic; the kind you can feel coursing through your veins, the feeling of power and control in that buzz of potential energy when you hold your wand. The results are instantaneous and thrilling. The power of a potion lies within the substance itself, but magic... magic comes from within _you._ It makes you feel alive, makes you feel connected with the world around you. I know I'd be a better witch if I put more effort into your class but I just can't bring myself to invest. I mean, sure, the results are fascinating and exciting, but the brewing itself is _so_ _boring_ \- I can't stay focussed and patience is definitely not a strength of mine. Plus, I don't like precision or following strict rules - I like the guessing and gut instinct and imagination that you need in Defence Against the Dark Arts. So, I just think Potions is for me." Feeling satisfied with her explanation, Asha lent back in her chair and waited to see how Snape would respond.

For a split second, he looked a little taken aback. But he quickly returned to his usual stern self.

"Been looking forward to lecturing me on the inadequacies of my subject, have you?"

"No, I-"

"Winters, I don't think you fully understand what the practice of potion brewing offer you." Snape pulled up the chair next to Asha and sat down. "The reason you don't like precision or self-discipline is because you are not good at it". Asha opened her mouth to retort but Snape continued. "It's true, and you should listen to me. You suffer from a constantly wandering mind and a need to always be engaged and distracted. You can't tolerate boredom. Have you heard of Legilimency?"

"No," Asha said cooly. She was annoyed at him for drawing harsh conclusions about her character despite hardly knowing her at all. Deep down she was also unnerved that his statements might in fact be correct.

"In essence, it is the act of navigating through the layers of another's mind, though it comes in many forms. I used it on you the day you arrived here - do you remember?"

Asha thought back to the moment when she was sat on the couch with her wounded leg and Snape had looked at her intensely, somehow causing images of the truth to flicker in front of her eyes.

"That's what that was!" said Asha, then, overwhelmed with curiosity, "can you do it without people knowing? Is it hard to learn? Can you learn to block it?" Snape smirked at her hungry reaction.

"One can learn to shield their mind, but some minds are more closed off and difficult to penetrate than others. A small portion of people naturally keep their mind's defences up at all times. They lock down their thoughts and compartmentalise them; seal them off from even themselves. A mind like that is very guarded, rigid and disciplined." Snape gave Asha a calculating look. "Surprisingly, that is what I found in your mind, the night I caught you out by the lake. I usually use Legilimency on students to determine whether or not they are lying. You told me that was your first time sneaking out of the castle and I was highly doubtful of that. However, your mind's walls were unconsciously up and I was unable to detect whether you were indeed telling the truth or not".

Despite hearing this satisfying achievement, Asha's face dropped, realising what Snape was saying. "But my mind isn't like that anymore..."

"No. Well, it wasn't two days ago," said Snape.

Asha looked down at her hands, which were still clutching the bread roll. After a beat, she mumbled, "What does this have to do with-"

"It's just an example. If the subject of potions doesn't interest you, learn it for the skills that can be applied to other aspects of your life. Teach yourself tolerance, self-control, unwavering focus despite you're mind's chronic tendency to drift." He paused and chose his next words very carefully. "You've started to slip this year Asha, and people have noticed. And I think it has frightened you. This is your opportunity to gain back composer and control."

Asha knew Snape was watching for her reaction. She was extremely uncomfortable with how much of _her_ he had deduced. It was now clear he was a much more observant and shrewd man than she had initially given him credit for. She needed to watch out.

"You mean protect Professor Binn's cupboard doors?" she finally replied, in reference to the unfortunate and now renowned incident where she had punched a hole in the History of Magic textbook cabinet. The corners of Snape's mouth twitched. 

"Yes, something like that," he said quietly, "...and perhaps other things".

Asha turned away at this, her stomach lurching. The thought had already crossed her mind but she had rapidly pushed it away. _Charlie._ If she had been able to properly focus her mind in the hospital; to reel in her thoughts and emotions; hone in on logic and reason, things would've gone very differently that summer. He was right. She desperately needed a way to detach herself from her constantly whirring thoughts. Perhaps this was it. And he was willing to help her.

She looked at him dead in the eye and said with an air of serious commitment, "Okay." His eyes flicked back and forth between her own as if searching for something.

"Good. Start with this." he handed her the scruffiest book from the top of the pile. "I want you to read it thoroughly and in its entirety before brewing anything."

"But this a beginners book!" Asha objected, "We made all of these potions in second year!"

"I'm surprised you remember, given your severe lack of engagement in that class. However, I think you'll find that what most of the students did, yourself included, was haphazardly throw together a vague semblance of the require ingredients and produce a substandard, and in some cases totally ineffective, poor excuse for a potion. This week, however, your aim will be to produce flawless versions of these potions."

Already Asha was thinking how much more fun it would be to work on her _baubillious_ charm instead. But Snape had persuaded her that trying to improve her potions skills could be very beneficial and address some of the problems she had faced last year, so she swiped up the book and headed out onto the porch to read it 'thoroughly and in its entirety'".

*

Over the next two weeks, the potions master and his student co-existed quite comfortably. Well, more comfortably than expected - Severus Snape wasn't one to describe the presence of another human as 'comfortable'. But most of the time they managed to stay out of each other's way. Early on, Asha did offer to cook dinners or do chores but Severus had declined with such finality that she didn't bring it up again.

It was clear to the professor that Asha was still struggling with her temptation to do magic. He also noticed her eyes occasionally wandering to gaze longingly at his collection of Dark Arts tomes. However, she restrained herself, respected his rules and gave him as much space as possible for two living under the same roof.

It was the first time he had seen her work ethic in action and was secretly pleased with her apparent determination. Improvement was slow and watching her fail to focus was infuriating. During the first couple of days, the number of times he had to demand Asha start a potion again after she had, yet again, lost count of her stirring was exasperating. He'd catch her standing in front of her cauldron, staring out the kitchen window with a strange, blank look on her face.

Severus couldn't deny that he found her slightly more intriguing than the usual adolescent brats that populated his class. No, that was a lie, he found her to be utterly perplexing. She possessed magical abilities far beyond what she should be capable of; she thought and behaved unlike any Hogwarts student he had seen. It was disconcerting that she had managed to stay below his radar for her first couple years at Hogwarts. He was usually good at reading students and their intentions and potentials - most of which didn't amount to much. The fact that the Ministry hadn't detected her underage magic combined with her unexplainable interest in Slytherin lineage raised even more questions. Though Dumbledore had convincingly denied it, Severus felt sure there was something strange going on.

*

Finally, two weeks into the summer break, Snape received a letter notifying him that Albus had returned to Hogwarts. Leaning on the porch railing, he called "Professor Dumbledore is back at Hogwarts. I am hoping you will be able to stay there for the remaining duration of the break".

Asha, who was perched on the garden wall, spun around, looking uncertain. But, suddenly her expression brightened.

"I'll be able to do magic there?"

Snape's face twitched in irritation. " _If_ the Headmaster allows it."

"When will I leave?" Asha asked, unable to prevent a broad smile breaking out across her face.

"I hope you don't forget about those potions I expect you to have perfected by the start of term," he drawled. "Go and pack your things." 

In her excitement, Asha made the mistake of boldly leaping down from the wall and twisted her ankle in the landing. Snape watched in disapproval as she swore under her breath and fumbled in her pockets in search of her wand. Realising it was stowed away in her trunk to prevent her from habitually using it or being tempted to use it, she looked up at him sheepishly.

"Do you think you could..." she began.

Snape sighed in exasperation and flicked his wand in the direction of her injured foot, muttering " _Episkey"._

Back inside the cottage, Asha grabbed her cauldron and a couple of the potions textbooks off the dining table and stuffed them into her trunk, along with a few other items which were strewn around her bedroom. She hauled her trunk out into the living room. Inevitably her eyes wandered to the banned bookshelf. 'Why am I so interested anyway?' said a voice in her head, 'most of what's in those books is nasty and dangerous'. 'But it's also fascinating,' piped in a different voice, 'pushing the limits of magic!'. And books like those were hard to get your hands on. It would be her last chance...

"Contemplating yet another betrayal of my trust, Winters?" came a deadly voice from behind her. Asha hadn't even heard him approach. "After all I've done for you?"

"No," she said hastily, spinning around to face him. He was certainly not convinced.

"We need to talk about how you're getting to the castle," said Snape, changing the subject.

"Can't you just apparate me to the gates?" asked Asha. Snape pressed his lips together and rolled his wand between his fingers, seemingly deliberating something.

"You see, the thing is, I am not particularly happy with the idea of Professor Dumbledore knowing you have been staying with me these past couple weeks," he said. Asha suddenly realised she absolutely agreed. She did not want to have to explain to Dumbledore why she had refused to set foot in the Foster Home. Especially when he had so graciously persuaded them to take her in once every year.

"Yes, I had a feeling you might agree," Snape continued. "As far as he knows, you have been at the Foster Home since break began. I took the liberty of contacting the Head Matron a couple of nights after you arrived, telling her you would not be joining them this summer." Asha felt a twinge of guilt at this statement. Being preoccupied with other things, she hadn't thought to do that. "I'm going to apparate you to Hogsmeade. From there I want you to send an owl to Dumbledore telling him you persuaded a witch in East Sussex to apparate you and you have been struggling to resist using magic." At this Asha furrowed her brows.

"I don't want him knowing that!" she said.

"Too bad," Snape said sharply, "Lies are more convincing if they're based on truth. Besides... I think that of this he ought to be made aware." Asha pursed her lips. Deep down she had known her slight 'magic addiction' wasn't normal, but she didn't like the idea of other people identifying the 'inherent wrongness' that she could feel lurking somewhere within her.

"You will ask him _very politely_ if you may return to the castle for the remainder of the break."

"What if he says no?"

"I believe he won't do that. He-"

"What if he doesn't believe me? Every time he looks at me I get this feeling that he can see right through me"

"Make your letter convincing and he'll likely be too busy to see you in person."

"Busy doing what?" Asha asked, genuinely curious. Snape ignored her. He made Asha write the letter out three times before he was satisfied.

Even though this time she was prepared for the apparition, it didn't make the sensation any less unpleasant. She gripped Snape's arm fiercely as they were sucked through the void. Standing on two feet had never felt so sweet as they landed on a deserted road outside Hogsmeade. Asha turned to face her professor. He was only a few inches taller than her. It was strange how much their relationship had changed in two weeks. He now knew far more about her than any other living person. And in turn, she knew him better than any other Hogwarts student ever had. Asha cleared her throat and forced herself to look at him.

"Thank you," she mumbled. That feeble courtesy was all she could manage. She didn't like the vulnerable feeling that came with expressing genuine gratitude. Snape would surely understand that though - even now he also looked to be uncomfortable with the gesture. Asha stuck out her hand. After a moment's hesitation, Snape reluctantly shook it. His hands were slender and his grip strong.

"Hopefully next time I see you I won't have spent four weeks living on the streets of Hogsmeade," Asha joked, getting a little kick out of seeing him find it the opposite of funny. She bit back a smile and turned around, dragging her trunk along the cobbled road towards the town. A familiar crack echoed behind her.


	13. A Hollow Hogwarts

**A/N: I was just thinking, I love that moment in Deathly Hallows when Harry tries to** **_Accio_ ** **Hagrid ahahahaha I mean I know it's a very intense moment and we think Hagrid might be dead but idk it just gets me every time**

*****

Dumbledore's reply arrived within the hour:

_Dear Miss Winters,_

_I am sorry to hear you have been struggling and would be pleased to accommodate you for the remainder of the school break. Please ensure you notify the staff of the East Sussex Adolescent Foster Home of your new living arrangements._

_Meet Professor Hagrid at the Three Broomsticks at 3 pm today and he will escort you to the castle. I ask that you strictly remain within the castle walls until the school year begins as limited staff are on the premises and your safety is, as always, of utmost importance. Meals will be served during the usual times in the Great Hall. Professor Hagrid, Mr Filtch and Professor Sprout continue to reside at Hogwarts and I will be asking them to keep an eye out for you._

_Thank you for informing me of your growing compulsion to perform magic. I intend to discuss this with you in more depth in the near future. Until that time, I am happy for you to practice magic within the castle (and within the bounds of normal school restrictions)._

_I trust you will do your best to adhere to the standard school rules during this time and use your common sense._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Professor Dumbledore_

A few Butterbeers later, Hagrid's huge figure sidled through the doors of the inn. He kindly offered to carry Asha's trunk on the fast-paced walk (or in his case, a gentle stroll) to the Hogwarts gates. However, as soon as they had set foot in the grounds Asha pulled out her wand and felt the familiar rushing sensation of magic as she caused the trunk to levitate along behind them.

"Man, I've missed magic so much!" Asha beamed.

"Ah yep, lots o' the students tend to come back to school desperate to be castin' spells again," replied Hagrid cheerfully. "S'pose it's a good thing - the break reignites their want to learn an' all that." 

Unable to resist, Asha pointed her wand at a forty-five-degree angle and sent a fizzing jet of gold light into the cloudless sky ahead of them. It silently burst into a sphere of dazzling embers which slowly floated down towards the earth and vanished. It felt incredible to do magic again.

"Nice, I 'aven't seen that one before," said Hagrid, sounding impressed. Asha smiled.

"So how's you're break been so far, Hagrid?" she asked, "I suppose it's not much of a break for you since Gamekeeping duties don't really stop just because school does."

"Yeah I've been kept nice an' busy. Got lots o' big stuff comin' up this year! -Oh you'll know about it soon enough," Hagrid added in response to Asha's inquisitive look. "But it's always strange this time o' year, the school being so quiet 'n all. I always miss havin' students around."

Asha and the half-giant chatted happily on the walk up to the castle. Once outside the Entrance Hall, Hagrid pushed open the large wooden doors and held them for Asha.

"I'm sure you can find you're own way to your common room from here," chuckled Hagrid. "Dinner'll be at the usual time. But most o' the staff tend to 'ave it in their own private rooms this time o' year so don't be alarmed if sometimes it's just yourself who turns up. Oh, an' Dumbledore's asked me to keep an eye out for you - wants me to make sure you don't go wandering the grounds, all right?"

Asha grinned. "Don't worry, I'll behave myself. Thanks, Hagrid."

The heavy doors swung shut and the castle was silent. Asha was alone. She pulled a scrunched up piece of old parchment out of her pocket and lobbed in front of her before channelling ' _Alarte Ascendare'_. The ball of parchment launched upwards and gently tapped the lofty Entrance Hall ceiling before falling. Asha jogged to catch it and threw it up again, this time aiming her wand and causing the paper to burst into a bright blue flame before disintegrating. The whole way down to her Hufflepuff dorm she couldn't stop smiling.

*

As it turned out, Asha enjoyed the castle a lot more when it wasn't full of gossiping students. In the weeks that followed, she made sure to respect Dumbledore's rules and tried to stay out of the way of any staff. She spent a large portion of her time working on the tasks Snape had set her. He had given her permission to use his classroom and ingredients from the supply cupboard (strictly third year supplies only). It was a painful process, completing a potion after an hour of tedious brewing only to be forced to admit she had made a mistake (no matter how small) and needed to start again. When her tolerance for potions exceeded a certain threshold, she found herself procrastinating by trying to spark conversations with paintings in the castle - most were friendly, while some pretended to be asleep or blatantly left their frames.

Asha also, of course, worked on her magic. She had been practising conjuring spells. Conjuring even the simplest of objects was significantly harder than transfiguration. When she was finally able to produce a rickety wooden rocking chair from thin air, she got into the habit of taking library books up to the top of the Astronomy Tower, spending a few challenging minutes trying to conjure her feeble attempt at a chair, casting an additional cushioning spell to make up for it, and reading. The view from the Tower was beautiful and aiming spells off the balcony was a great way to practice without damaging anything.

She also took the time to explore parts of the castle she had seldom visited. Initially, she only ran into Filtch every few days, but in the couple of weeks leading up to the beginning of term, most of the professors returned to prepare for the new school year. She tried her best to avoid them.

One week before school was to restart, Asha was mucking about on the moving staircase between floors three and four. She stood on the bottom step and prepared for the staircase swing around to the west wing (she had come to know the movements of the staircases very well by this point). Mid-way through the rotation, another set of stairs appeared one floor below. Asha lept into the air and dropped. She desperately tried to focus on casting _Arresto Momentum_ , as opposed to the rapidly approaching marble. Unfortunately, her spell was not powerful enough and she landed hard, twisting her ankle. She quickly healed it, feeling more put out by the fact this was her fourth failure to non-verbally cast that spell.

Asha brushed herself off, pointed her wand above her head and murmured " _Ascendio_ ". An invisible force propelled her upwards. It was an exhilarating feeling. Just as she reached the peak of her ascent, a staircase rumbled beneath her and she dropped only a few inches before her feet landed on the marble. There was no denying she loved that rush of adrenaline. It made her feel alive.

Suddenly Asha had an idea. She climbed up on to the bannister and turned to face the landing (there was a rather nasty drop behind her which she tried not to think about). _What if she were to levitate her shoes... while she was standing in them?_ She grinned at the absurdity of the idea but stuck out her jean-clad leg all the same and eyed the Converse on her right foot (she had transfigured her old sneakers nearly a week ago).

"What in Merlin's name are you up to this time?" said a pompous man to Asha's right. He was within a painting of five wizards who were sat around a circular table, holding goblets. "Whatever it is, you can be sure it's going to be daft," piped in the blond-haired warlock next to him. The group sniggered.

Asha ignored them and aimed _Wingardium Leviosa_ at her right foot. She felt the shoe become a force of its own and nearly lost her balance. Keeping her wand as steady as possible, she cautiously tried to move her weight onto her suspended foot. For a fleeting second, she thought it was going to work. Then, as she tried to balance herself, her wand arm began to twitch and her shoe wobbled back and forth. Before she knew it, her foot shot upwards and she was violently flipped upside down, narrowly missing cracking her head on the marble floor by only a couple of feet. The Converse slipped off her foot and shot into the air as Asha crumpled head-first at the top of the staircase. A second later the shoe hit the floor, bounced, and landed neatly next to her. Raucous laughter ensued from the nearby painting and Asha stood up and gave them a dramatic bow.

"Yes, I suppose there's a reason people don't do that," Asha concluded with a grin. She pulled her shoe back on and turned around. There, standing at the base of the staircase, was Severus Snape. He was holding his wand with his arms crossed. Levitating beside him was a rack of vials no doubt intended for the Hospital Wing. His scowl was so lethal that Asha was certain he had just witnessed her ridiculous magical performance. She burst out laughing.

"I'm glad to see your extra hours of learning opportunity are being put to good use," he said in his most disapproving tone.

"I finished my second batch of Shrinking Solution this morning!" Asha protested, "I figured I deserved some... recreational time."

"Indeed," Snape growled. He walked up the stairs and Asha stood aside to let him pass, leaning against the bannister and crossing her own arms. Now that the surprise of meeting him under such absurd circumstances was wearing off, seeing him again felt unnerving. She assumed he was feeling the same but he gave nothing away. When Snape reached the top of the stairs he paused and faced her.

"I want you in my classroom nine o'clock Wednesday morning with all six potions prepared for me to inspect," he said in a bored voice.

Asha gave a nod, "Okay."

"Okay, _what?"_ he snapped.

"Okay, professor."

If anything, Asha was relieved at his usual ill-tempered demeanour. It suited her just fine to pretend that the summer at Abersoch had never happened. Snape turned towards the Hospital Wing and Asha hurried down to the dungeons to try for what felt like the hundredth time, to brew a perfect Doxycide.

**A/N:** **Thanks so much for the support** 💕  
 **Leave a vote if you're enjoying c:**


	14. Inspection

**A/N: Hyloooo just wondering - what's your opinion on chapter length? Do you like em short or long? This chapter was initially the second half of the previous chapter but it was nearly 4000 words and I thought people might find it too long. Lemme know your thoughts :))**

**As always, thanks for reading!!**

*****

Late Tuesday night, Asha had finally managed the Doxicide. She hovered the cauldron over to the back bench where the other five 'assignments' sat and retired to her common room feeling somewhat accomplished. Somewhere deep down she was actually looking forward to seeing her potions professor tomorrow, much like in Abersoch when she had felt ... comfort?... being in his vicinity. But for the most part (and the part she was listening to), she didn't enjoy the fact she had become abnormally close with him and wished she could wipe herself from his memory.

The next morning Asha woke early but didn't go down to breakfast. Ever since the staff had returned she'd been avoiding meal times when possible. Instead, she got dressed and jogged up to the Astronomy Tower. She was longing to go outside and sitting on the balcony railing was the closest thing to it.

When the Clock Tower rang nine o'clock Asha headed to the dungeons. When she arrived the classroom was empty so she sat down at a desk and propped her feet up on an adjacent chair. When, after five minutes, Snape still hadn't arrived, Asha conjured a levitating ball of water and began magically moulding it into various shapes.

Finally, after forty-five minutes, Snape came strolling into the classroom. His eyes briefly flickered between Asha and her hovering pool of water, which was now in the vague shape of a Thestral. Apart from this, he made no acknowledgement of her presence and continued to stride over to his desk and place down the rolls of parchment he had been carrying.

Asha wasn't annoyed at him in the slightest for being late - he was doing her a favour setting her brewing assignments at all. But despite finding his disregard of basic social etiquette quite amusing, she couldn't stand the lack of greeting.

"Um, good morning," she said.

Snape grunted in response, still fossicking in the draws of his desk. Eventually, he sighed and said, "Right, where are your potions?"

Asha pointed to the back bench with her wand.

"Don't wave your wand around if you're not planning on using it," he snapped.

 _Merlin, he's grumpy today! Even for his standards..._ Asha raised her eyebrows but tucked her wand into the back pocket of her jeans all the same.

Snape started to make his way over to the six cauldrons lining the back wall. Assuming he didn't need 'support' to check her work, Asha made no attempt to move from her comfy spot. But as he walked past her he snapped, "With me, Winters!"

She hopped up and walked with him to the bench. She watched as he leaned over the first cauldron, his black hair brushing the sides of his face.

"Good," he stated after a moment.

"Wh- Aren't you gonna test it?"

"I can tell a good Girding Potion when I see it," he said coldly.

As he sidestepped to examine the next cauldron, Asha slid next to him and stared into the foul-smelling, golden liquid. What could he see that she couldn't? The potion could easily match those distinctive characteristics while still being flawed - Asha had relied on an indicator to check its quality.

"Good," he said again, moving on to the third potion. Asha was quietly impressed, though he was a Potions Master after all.

"Has Professor Dumbledore spoken to you yet?" he suddenly asked.

"No," Asha replied truthfully. She glanced sideways at him, wondering if he was concerned Dumbledore might've found out he had housed her for a third of the holidays. His face gave nothing away.

"You followed the instructions well here, but Wideye Potion tends to activation better with a quarter teaspoon of cinnamon," he said. Asha experienced a pulse of irritation.

"My job was to follow the steps perfectly. Did you expect me to start taking creative license and sprinkling spices into my hard work?" she retorted. Snape just turned and glowered at her.

"Achieved any more wandless magic recently?" he questioned. Asha was caught off guard by the change in subject.

"I- No, I have not," she said firmly, annoyed that he was bringing it up. Snape's gaze flicked to Asha's right thigh and she realised she was unconsciously touching the spot she had wounded herself. She quickly shoved her hands in her pockets and nodded at the fourth cauldron.

"How's my antidote then?" she urged him. His shrewd eyes lingered on her own before he eventually turned to look at the potion. He leaned over to sniff the mixture, his hooked nose inches from the surface.

"Surely with all this free time you've been able to master some more advanced magic?" he drawled, before placing his hand on the side of the cauldron to feel the temperature.

"No," Asha lied. As always, she did not like the idea of being noticed, even if it was for her impressive magical capabilities. "I've been too busy with you're -" (she nearly added ' _stupid_ ') "-potions."

"Oh, is that so? How implausible," he mocked.

Asha wanted to be anywhere else. She'd come here for Snape to inspect her potions, not for a cross-examination _._ But she had the distinct feeling he wasn't going to drop the subject until she conceded at least _something_.

"Fine. I've been working on conjuring," she admitted. The corner Snape's mouth curled and he looked at her expectantly.

When Asha didn't move he said, "Well, let's see it then."

Asha bit her lip in frustration. She wanted to get out of here and the quickest way to do that way probably just to do as he said. She pulled her wand out of her back pocket, silently conjured the wooden rocking chair, and gave Snape a look that said ' _Happy?_ ' Snape prodded the chair with his boot and it creaked loudly.

"Oh, that's a bit mediocre don't you think, Winters?" he drawled.

Asha rolled her wand between her fingers, thinking perhaps Snape would be more impressed if she demonstrated her _Expulso_ curse on him...

"Conjuring is N.E.W.T level," she stated coldly, vanishing the chair.

Snape ignored her and returned to inspecting the fourth cauldron, hands clasped behind his back, though he wasn't thinking about the potion at all.

"Any more trips to the restricted section?" he said, after a minute or so.

Asha narrowed her eyes at him. She hadn't come here to be interrogated. And why would he ask about that? Had he figured out why she was looking at that scroll that night? Why did she feel like he knew something about her?

"Your silence suggests guilt, Winters". He spoke softly now.

Asha knew what he was about to do a split second before it happened. But she was prepared. The walls of her mind were back up. Without them, there was no way she could've managed those potions. She stared furiously back at Snape and easily shut out everything in her mind except the sight of his piercing black eyes. His face revealed nothing, but after a few seconds, Asha felt the pressure at the back her skull recede.

 _How dare he try to invade her mind! He had no grounds to do so!_ But beneath the boiling anger, Asha was afraid. Why was he so interested in her? Did he know something she didn't? Or... her stomach dropped... could he also sense whatever was wrong with her? Why on earth had she let him get so close? This needed to stop now.

She wanted to pull out her wand and blast him to the other end of the room. She wanted to yell and swear at him to never dare do it again. Instead, she reigned in her emotions and gave him one last icy glare before walking to the door. When Asha's hand grasped the cool metal door handle, she stopped, thinking hard. After a few seconds, she let go and slowly turned around.

"Why?" she demanded. Snape's face was inscrutable as ever.

"Tell me why you were looking at Slytherin lineage that night."

"No."

"Why not?" he asked slowly. Now Asha could see curiosity burning behind his eyes. "I could threaten you with a year's worth of detentions and I still don't think you'd tell me. What is of such significance?" When Asha didn't respond he continued, "Or are you just the kind of person who is determined to keep others at arm's length? Scared of what might happen if people get too close?"

"Oh, that's _rich_ coming from you," Asha said darkly. Snape didn't even flinch. "You have your secrets, I have mine," she said finally.

"A fourth year student shouldn't have secrets," he hissed, walking towards her until they were only a couple of feet apart.

"If you wanted to peruse my mind like it's you're own personal cinema, why did you bother helping me wall it up again?" Asha shot back. There was a long pause in which both parties stood totally still, glaring. Eventually, Snape spoke quietly:

"How are you feeling?"

Asha was totally unprepared for this response and out of nowhere she felt a prickling behind her eyes. The thing was, she was feeling _so_ much better. She no longer felt like she was on a sinking ship. During that fortnight in Abersoch, Snape had somehow helped her pull herself together again. He'd drawn her off the path that was quickly leading her towards some kind of break down. She bit the inside of her lip to pull the feeling - whatever it was - away and retained a blank expression, praying Snape hadn't noticed.

"Better," she said flatly.

Snape was looking at her in that unnerving way again - like he just... _knew._ He stepped back and lazily waved his wand at the back bench, causing all the potions except the Doxicide and antidote to vanish, and the four empty cauldrons to whiz back to the storage cupboard.

"Your other potions also sufficed. You may leave," he said coldly, returning to the piles of parchment on his desk.

**A/N: The pace starts to pick up soon, promise!**


	15. The Triwizard Tournament

**A/N: Feel free to skip this ramble...**

**One time I was watching this youtube video about a Harry Potter colouring book (only because I was thinking of buying it but I ended up coming to my senses and admitting I would probably only colour a quarter of a single page and lose patience, especially after realising my art was a lot more shit than what I was seeing on pinterest) and the girl was like "Here I've coloured Hedwig. I really enjoyed this page because Hedwig is my _all-time favourite character_ of the Harry Potter series" ahahahahaha** **of ALL the interesting, complex, incredible characters... Ginny, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Dobby, Fred and George (oh and Snape obviously) you love that fucking owl THE MOST?!** 😂😂😂 **I mean of course we all love Hedwig but** ** _all-time favourite character?_ All she does the whole series is give Harry some pecks and deliver a letter! I just found that super cute and hilarious. Anyway, there was a point to this story... oh yeah, who's your favourite character (apart from Sevy) and are there any characters you would want to feature more in this story?**

**Okay that's enough of that... back to the story!**

*****

"ASH!!! There you are!!"

Maive charged through the doorway and jumped on to the bed, wrapping Asha in a rib-crushing embrace. Suddenly Asha's four-poster was piled with all four of her room-mates - Maive, Alisha, Jules and Rachel - all taking turns to hug her and proclaim how much they missed her.

"Eh, I guess I've missed you guys a bit too," Asha joked.

"Why weren't you on the train? We were worried!" exclaimed Alisha, dramatic as always. Asha looked sheepish.

"I missed the train. Flitwick had to apparate me," she lied.

"I knew it!" cried Maive, "You all owe Matt and me ten Fizzing Whizzbees!"

Asha laughed as the other three swore.

"Dammit, Ash! We put our faith in you and look where it got us!" shouted Rachel in mock anger.

Asha watched the giggling faces of her fellow Hufflepuffs and gave a genuine smile. She had to admit, it was nice to have some light-hearted company again.

"You seem really good, Ash. I have to confess, we were all a bit worried about you at the end of third year," said Jules. Maive gave her a scolding look. 

Asha smiled apologetically and said, "Yeah, I'm sorry about that," (there was an inevitable chorus of 'don't be sorry!'), "I think I was just stressed about exams and stuff - having a break's fixed me up though!" All the girls beamed.

"Hey, Matt, Justin and Earnie are out in the common room - they'll be stoked to see you too!" said Maive, grabbing Asha by the hand and pulling her to the door. She was no doubt looking forward to declaring she and Matt had won the bet.

That night at the start of year feast, Dumbledore announced some very exciting news: Hogwarts was going to be hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year. As a result, many hours later, Asha lay in bed, unable to sleep. The more she thought about it, the more she was desperate to compete. Even her usually unwavering desire not to be noticed was cast aside by the idea of the Tournament. It sounded incredible. And it would be a perfect chance for her to get to use all the advanced and somewhat dangerous magic she had been learning. _Maybe the champions would have to duel each other!_ But, to many students' dismay, only those over the age of seventeen were allowed to compete. Asha was only fourteen. So that was that, and she was left cursing the rules and praying that the Tournament might be held again in her seventh year.

With classes starting back up, life became relatively busy again. It seemed that Asha and Snape had come to an unspoken agreement to never speak of their time together over the break. Though Snape now held higher expectations of her in class, and as a result of determination and practice, Asha was becoming much more adept at maintaining focus and discipline during potion brewing. She had shot to the top of the class, though still behind Hermione Granger of course. One thing that remained unchanged was the quality of Asha's homework essays, which still lacked any form of passion or precision.

On Wednesday morning of the second week of term, Asha was eating breakfast in the Great Hall, chatting with a crowd of Hufflepuffs when she felt a light tap on her shoulder. Looking around, she saw a blond-haired first year girl holding out a small scroll, looking nervous. Perhaps the story of Asha punching Professor Binn's cupboard had already become a legend among the new students. Asha smiled kindly and took the scroll, thanking the timid girl. 

"What's that, Ash?" asked Matt, who was sitting opposite her.

"Er, not sure. A letter I guess, probably from a teacher," she said, shrugging. Matt and the surrounding Hufflepuffs curiously waited for Asha to open it, but she quickly tucked the parchment into the inside pocket of her robes and returned to her bacon and eggs.

By the time fifth period rolled around, Asha still hadn't found a moment alone to open the letter and curiosity was eating at her. Her mind kept drifting and as a result, she added the peppermint to her Calming Draught a little too late. Regardless of this mistake, Asha still managed to finish the potion before most of the class. Everyone in her vicinity was still focussing hard on their cauldrons, and the room was clouded with steam and the sound of bubbling liquid. Unable to resist any longer, Asha discretely reached into her robes and pulled out the little scroll. She gave one last furtive glance around the room to check no one was looking. Luckily, Snape was three tables ahead, currently in the middle of berating poor Earnie. She unrolled the parchment. 

_Dear Miss Winters,_

_I would like to catch up with you this Thursday evening. My office is located on the third floor of the Headmaster's Tower. As you may remember, the entrance is concealed by a gargoyle who will allow you access when given the password. Kindly come along at eight p.m. I hope you are enjoying your first couple of weeks back at school._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Professor Dumbledore_

_P.S. I am a big fan of Cockroach Cluster._

Asha's stomach clenched and she subtly returned the letter to her pocket. Unfortunately, it was what she had been expecting. She took a deep breath. There was no point in worrying, either way, she was going to have to face him. Looking up, she was startled to see Snape eyeing her suspiciously. She quickly dropped her gaze and pretended to stir her potion. 

With ten minutes of the class remaining, Snape prowled around inspecting their Calming Draughts. When he reached Asha's table she swore she saw his eyes linger on the pocket of her robes before staring into her cauldron.

"Disappointing, Winters," he sighed disapprovingly, vanishing her potion before moving on.

Thursday night seemed to arrive far too quickly. Asha grasped the brass Griffin door knocker, braced herself, and knocked three times.

"Enter," came a familiar, friendly voice and Asha did as she was told. 

The headmaster's office was intriguing; strange silver instruments, ancient books and portraits of previous headmasters lined the circular walls. But Asha barely noticed these, as her eyes were immediately drawn to a large, crimson feathered bird with a flowing golden tail.

"Good evening, Asha," said Dumbledore warmly. 

"Oh, er-" Asha pulled her gaze from the beautiful creature, "Good evening, sir".

The Headmaster was sitting behind his desk looking relaxed and cheerful.

"Ah, I see you've noticed Fawkes," he smiled. Asha slowly approached the bird, who was sitting on a perch beside Dumbledore's desk. It turned it's head sideways and looked at Asha through a swirling black eye that reminded her a lot of Snape's.

"Is it a phoenix?" Asha asked, her voice full of awe.

"He is, yes," said Dumbledore, "have you read of them?"

Asha nodded, still looking at Fawkes.

"Can I...?" Asha raised a hand.

"Yes, of course," beamed Dumbledore, "he seems to like you."

Asha slowly outstretched her fingers. Fawkes raised his head so she could stroke his chest. His feathers were softer than she could have imagined and hot to the touch. She suddenly felt a surge of emotion grip her chest and she quickly snatched her hand away as if it had been burned. Realising how strange this would've looked, she tried to recover herself by quickly using the same hand to tuck a strand of long, dark hair behind her ear and cleared her throat awkwardly.

"Er, he's beautiful," she stammered as the emotion mercifully receded. Dumbledore was peering at her over his half-moon spectacles, not looking at all surprised.

"Take a seat if you will, Asha," he said kindly, motioning to the armchair in front of his desk. Asha sat. "How did you find your stay at Hogwarts over the break? Not too lonely I hope?"

Asha hadn't found herself lonely in the slightest. Well, a more accurate way of putting it would be that the lack of human interaction did not worsen her loneliness. Ever since her twin brother, Cole, had died, she had felt a deeply engrained, ever-present loneliness, despite how many people surrounded her. But she had grown so used to it, it was now just a part of who she was.

"It was great, thank you. And no, I actually enjoyed the peace and quiet. Once again, thank you so much for letting me stay, sir," she said.

"Oh, it was no problem at all, Asha. In fact, I am very pleased you felt able to contact me and let me know of the problems you were facing," said Dumbledore. Asha nodded wearily, knowing where the conversation was headed. "I must admit one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you was to discuss more about this, er... I believe you described it as an itch?"

"Yes," she replied. Dumbledore looked at her expectantly and Asha reluctantly elaborated: "But a really _bad_ itch." She had decided beforehand to honest with Dumbledore. "It sort of felt like ..." she shifted uncomfortably and looked at the desk instead of his x-raying eyes, "an addiction? Sometimes it felt like the magic was building up inside of me and if I didn't use the energy soon, I was going to, I dunno... explode?" she laughed nervously, knowing it sounded crazy.

Dumbledore's expression didn't change. He simply nodded.

"I see."

For a while, he sat in deep thought. After several uncomfortable minutes, Asha spoke up.

"Is... is there something wrong with me?" It was a question she had been wanting to ask for many years, and it showed in her strained voice. Dumbledore smiled kindly.

"Wrong with you? Absolutely not. I think..." the headmaster paused, "...you are simply an extremely capable witch, Asha. Perhaps you have more magic in your veins than most, but this is not at all a bad thing. I believe you have the potential to do wonderful things, Asha. Wonderful things for _good._ "

Asha kept her expression polite, but inside she was thinking _where the fuck is this all coming from!?_ Everyone knew Dumbledore was a bit eccentric; her only guess was that perhaps he made a habit of trying to inspire and instil self-belief in all his students when possible. Then she remembered something.

"Professor Dumbledore, I've actually been wanting to talk to you about something."

"Yes, Asha?" he prompted, but he had a knowing look in his piercing blue eyes.

"Well..." she hadn't planned how to best approach this so she just blundered on, "...the thing is, I'm actually quite, er, advanced at magic. Not just in my classes - for my age I mean. But no one really knows that because I don't like to advertise it."

"Yes, Professor Snape has mentioned some instances of your impressive wandwork to me," said Dumbledore genially. Asha flinched at the idea that Snape had reported to the Headmaster about her. Dumbledore continued, "But I get the feeling you are not telling me this simply for commendation. Am I right?"

"I was just wondering if maybe you could give me an exception and let me enter the Triwizard Tournament, sir." Asha sat straight and held eye contact, trying to show Dumbledore she was serious.

"I do not doubt your capability, Asha. In fact, I am inclined to believe you would be well up for the task. But I'm afraid that it is simply not possible. You see, the Tournament was revived based on the promise that heavy restrictions would be put in place to ensure the safety of the contestants. And it would also not be in the spirit of fairness to make an exception for you. I'm sure you understand."

"I do, I thought you might say that," Asha smiled, not wanting to reveal how disappointed she felt.

"Well, I think for now you should do your best not to dwell on the struggles you faced this summer. We will re-broach the subject when next summer rolls around I think."

"Yes, thank you, sir." Asha was relieved their meeting was coming to a close without too many invasive questions.

They said their farewells, Dumbledore wishing Asha the all best the best for her fourth year. She was heading to the door when he spoke again.

"Oh, and Asha, if anything else starts to trouble you during the year, _anything at all_ , my office is always open. I am always happy to talk to you." 


	16. A Slippery Slope

**A/N:** **This chapter doesn't feature SS :c But the next one does so hang in there!**

**Thank you for sticking with the story so far** ❤️ **I've got so much stuff planned and we're still only in the 'introduction' whoopsie** 🙈 ****

**Leave a vote if you're enjoying the journey :P**

*****

Very quickly, the school year began to drag. Asha was finding a lot of her classes exceedingly boring, seeing as she had learnt a lot of the magic already, and classes like History of Magic were dull to begin with. Although, Magical Creatures was usually good fun (Hagrid had them trying to wrangle Blast Ended Skrewts nearly every lesson) and Potions was at least challenging, but being around Snape always made her paranoid that she was being watched or might accidentally give away another piece of herself. She was also very fond of the new DADA teacher and he had mentioned he was going to get them to practice resisting the imperious curse at some point which Asha thought would be very interesting.

On the 30th of October, the long-anticipated arrival of the Beauxbaton and Durmstrang students finally dawned. The following evening, during the Halloween Feast, the names of the champions were presented from the Goblet of Fire: Viktor Crum, Fleur Delacour and Cedric Diggory (Despite the fact Asha lacked a feeling of belonging in Hufflepuff, she still felt a strong sense of house-pride when Cedric was announced to be Hogwarts Champion) were selected. Oh, and _Harry Potter._

The whole school was furious that the famous 'Boy Who Lived' had somehow weaselled his way into the competition, and Asha was one of them. She had trusted Dumbledore when he had told her no exceptions would be made for underage students. How could she have been so nieve? Everyone knew Dumbledore practically _worshipped_ Harry. In their first year he gifted Harry and his friends only about a bazillion house points for _breaking school rules._ It was fair to say that Asha was indeed quite bitter.

However, she channelled her bitterness into a brilliant idea and a few days later she found herself face to face with Cedric Diggory. She had followed him on the way to his Charms class and non-verbally cast _Tranquillium Sedato_ on him - the same frowned-upon spell she had used to coerce Madeline back to East Sussex with her dead child. Cedric drowsily slipped from his throng of friends and disappeared with Asha around a corner. She guided him behind a large tapestry into a secret corridor and lifted the spell.

"Wha... how did I get here?" yawned Cedric, rubbing his eyes. "Wait- who're you?"

"Hi Cedric, my name's Asha, I just wanted a quick word," she said cordially.

"Hang on, aren't you that girl who punched a wall or something? Asha Winters?"

"Yup, that's the one," she admitted reluctantly.

"Huh, I can't actually imagine you being the violent type," Cedric mused.

"Well, I did just bewitch you," Asha reminded him.

"Yeah, about that... pretty sure that's against school rules."

"You gonna report me?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I haven't decided yet," replied Cedric, flashing that endearing smile of his. "So what is it you want? You're not going to ask me to go with you to Hogsmeade, are you? Girls have been doing that all weekend."

Asha laughed. "No, not quite. I'll get straight to the point; I want to help you prepare for the Tournament."

Now it was Cedric's turn to laugh. "No offence, but I'm not sure there's much you have to offer me. Aren't you only a fourth year?"

Asha bit her lip, trying to decide what the right move was. In a flash, she whipped out her wand and the handsome sixth year was pinned to the wall with an invisible force clamped around his abdomen, wrists and ankles. He yelled in surprise but she had already cast a muting spell and the corridor remained silent.

"I promise you, I'm pretty good," she smirked before releasing him.

"What the fuck!" Cedric said in a hushed voice (they were both supposed to be in class by now).

"Look, truth is, I just really want to practice my duelling. And I figured you could do with someone to practice with for the Tournament. I bet I'd make a more worthy opponent than any of your pretty sixth year mates."

Cedric looked weary and was rubbing his wrists where the spell had hit.

"Listen mate, I'm not crazy, I promise," Asha assured him, smiling apologetically. She waved her wand over his wrists, instantly stopping the pain and preventing any future bruising. After a second, a daring smile spread across Cedric's puppy-dog face.

"Okay then, why not? I'm not promising anything but I'll give you a trial run. Deal?" he held out his hand.

"Deal," she said, as the pair shook on it. "Oh actually, just one more thing..." Cedric made a face. "It has to be a secret. I don't want people even knowing that you know me."

"Er... yeah okay. I guess I don't really want the whole school knowing I'm training with a fourth year," Cedric said with a cheeky smile.

*

Over the next few weeks, many things began to change. Asha and Cedric's trial duelling session was a major success. The pair were surprisingly well-matched when it came to speed and accuracy. As a result, they started to train together multiple times a week in an old classroom Flitwick had cleared out for Cedric to practice in. Asha taught Cedric spells she had read about, while he showed her strategies he had learned from experience. They got along surprisingly well and quickly became close (for Asha's standards anyway). Despite this, Asha still maintained that their training and friendship should remain a secret. The student body couldn't stop talking about Cedric and the Tournament and she did not want her name thrown in the mix.

With all the excitement of duelling with Cedric and joining in on the constant speculation about what the first task might be, Asha began to slack on her schoolwork. On top of this, despite her continued effort in potions, her general patience seemed to be wearing thin again and she was quickly developing an attitude along the lines of 'not giving a fuck anymore'. She didn't learn anything from the homework, especially when the content was something she had taught herself a year ago. The only reason to do it was to stay out of trouble but, thanks to Snape, she was already on Dumbledore's radar anyway. Hence her motivation to hand in every Transfiguration and Charms essay was fleeting.

It started off with sub-par essays and the occasionally missed assignment, but the professors forgave their talented and usually reliable student. However, this was only the start of a slippery slope and within the span of a few weeks, she was now getting constantly reprimanded and had even served a lunchtime detention with McGonagall. But Asha wasn't bothered by her fall in reputation and struggled to remember why she had been so obsessed with being a 'goody two shoes' in the first place.

After three weeks of Asha's progressively delinquent behaviour, she received another letter from Dumbledore asking her to come to his office. Asha knew Dumbledore was now aware she was too advanced for her classes and was worried he might ask her to move up a year-level (the idea of hard work and classes full of strangers was not appealing), but he did not.

"Thank you for meeting with me this afternoon, Asha," he said in his usual friendly tone, "Please take a seat. I'm afraid I have been receiving multiple reports from your professors regarding your sudden decline in class engagement and homework completion."

Asha looked back into Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes and stubbornly kept her mouth shut.

"Is there anything you would like to tell me about, Asha? Anything at all?" he asked gently.

"No sir, I've just lost motivation," she replied, before hesitating, knowing she should stop there. Unfortunately, she was feeling reckless and fed up with discipline so she opened her mouth again; "I find most of the homework the professors set us pointless; writing an essay is not going to help us _learn_ the magic."

To her surprise, Dumbledore's expression didn't change. That was until he spoke.

"Asha, I will not have you speak of my staff in such a way," the Headmaster said sharply but without raising his voice. "Whether or not you see the point in the matter is irrelevant. You are a student at Hogwarts and it is expected of you to show your professors respect. That means abiding by their rules, and completing the tasks they assign you."

Asha bit the inside of her lip and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yes sir, I understand," she said with convincing remorse, though inside she felt angry. Not at anything in particular; perhaps she was just angry at herself, or about her life in general. Too often her emotions seemed to be in a world of their own, coming out of a thick fog she couldn't see behind.

"Good," said Dumbledore cheerfully, his eyes twinkling once more. "I look forward to hearing of your improvements, you may leave."


	17. To Trust, Or Not To Trust

The late afternoon sun was low on the horizon and a light autumn mist was swirling over the Hogwarts grounds. Having just finished an exhilarating training session with Cedric, Asha was in no mood to return to the Hufflepuff common room to have Alisha and Maive start lecturing her about the homework she needed to do. Instead, she was strolling through the dewy grass, feeling the crisp, icy air on her cheeks. She could've cast a warming charm, but she liked the sharp feeling of the cold; what was it to be human if not to feel?

She was in the mood for a change of scenery and headed around the side of the castle towards the Quidditch pitch, rather than to the Black Lake and Forbidden Forest. Asha wasn't a huge fan of Quidditch, but she loved flying. She and Cole had always dreamt of being able to fly. Her first time on a broom was a mixture of absolute joy and heart-wrenching grief for what her brother never got to experience. She didn't own her own broom, but every now and then she would break into the school broom cupboard and borrow a Cleansweep. With the aid of a disillusionment charm, she could swerve between the castle towers and zoom across the lake, dragging her fingertips through the water.

No teams were practising this afternoon and the pitch was deserted. Asha weaved beneath the stands, trying to avoid thinking about how much Cole would've loved Quidditch. Suddenly she heard a shout of laughter, followed by a chorus of 'Ssshhhh!' and ' _Shut up, Hamish!_ '. There was a distinct smell of smoke wafting between the wooden framing beneath the stands. Asha cast a silencing spell on her shoes and followed the noise around the curve of the stands. Standing around a waist-high, horizontal support beam was a group of boys Asha immediately recognised.

"Oi!" one of them yelled, having spotted her. The other four spun around.

"Who are you?" demanded a tall, black-hair boy at the front of the pack.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" snarled another. Asha watched in amusement as they all fumbled for their wands. She raised her arms in surrender.

"Woah, chill out," she said, taking a few steps closer, curious to see what they were doing. They pointed their wands threateningly, though none of them fired.

"Stay back! I'm warning you," barked the first boy.

"Calm down," Asha laughed, "I'm not a snitch - no pun intended. You guys are Cedric's friends, right? Is one of you Brad?"

The boys looked at each other, uncertain, then slowly lowered their wands.

"I'm Brad," said the black-hair boy wearily, "How do you know Cedric?"

"Family friend," she lied, taking the opportunity to move close enough to see what the group were clearly trying to hide. Asha grinned in amusement at what she saw. "Is that weed? How did you manage to get that into the castle?"

Sitting on the wooden beam was a small tin containing ground cannabis, rolling papers, and a few filters. Next to it was a crumpled, failed attempt at a joint. The beam was speckled with scorch marks.

"I got my Muggle cousin to send it to me by owl. He's got business selling them at his school and asked if I wanted to distribute at Hogwarts. I said I would need to sample it before I agreed to anything," said Brad. Realising Asha wasn't a threat, the other boys had relaxed and put away their wands.

"Move over," Asha smirked. She grabbed a fresh piece of paper out of the tin, creased it, placed a filter at the end and filled the joint. She deftly pinched the paper together and rolled it before licking the top edge and sealing the roll. Without thinking, she poked the aglet of her hoodie drawstring into the open end of the roll before twisting the tip shut. She held the joint between her fingers, lit it with her wand, and passed it to Brad. The five boys were all looking half impressed, half embarrassed.

"You're welcome," she said, turning to leave and calling over her shoulder, "oh and I'd post a lookout if I were you. I bet if Filtch catches you he'll start searching the mail."

A few of the astonished boys spoke at once:

"Wait, what's you're name?"

"Where'd you learn to do that?"

"You some kind of pothead or something?"

Asha stopped in her tracks. A sense of dread spread from her face, washing down through her entire body to the tips of her limbs. She didn't know why. Eager to get away, she shoved her hands into the pockets of her black coat and continued walking. Even when she was out of sight of the group, she didn't stop. _What was this feeling?_ Her mind felt off; detached and broken; like a record player that kept skipping tracks.

The sun was nearly behind the mountains now, and the mist had grown heavy. The open-air and biting chill were no longer a comfort to Asha. The whole world suddenly felt unfamiliar and surreal. She quickly found herself at the bottom of the castle steps. _Maybe if she got back to her common room and her silly, normal friends, this feeling would stop; things would feel stable again._

She hurried up the stone steps into the Entrance Hall, barely noticing what was around her. She fought to apply logic. What had triggered this? What was it the boys had yelled? Her stomach flipped. _'Where'd you learn to do that?'_ It was a reasonable question. Why did it make her whole body ring with panic?

_BANG!_

Asha vaguely registered she had crashed into someone.

"Sorry," she mumbled, desperate to keep moving; to find some form of relief from whatever this was.

"For Merlin's sake! Watch where you're-... Winters?" Snape's familiar deep voice was just enough to adequately catch Asha's attention.

The potions master had immediately registered that something was off. Asha's face was drained of colour. She was tense and her eyes were flashing with something he couldn't put his finger on. At the sound of his voice, she turned.

"What's wrong?" Snape demanded quietly (there were other students nearby, moving through the corridor).

Asha looked him in the eye and hesitated. A rapid-paced internal battle was taking place; it felt like he was a life raft in the middle of a raging ocean storm, but her brain was screaming not to let him any closer to her than he already was - he already knew too much about her.

Snape saw the moment of hesitation and subtly, yet swiftly, grabbed her by the arm and forcefully lead her into the nearest empty classroom. He released her and closed the door. In the background of her buzzing brain, Asha heard him murmur ' _Muffliato'._ She suddenly felt dizzy and sank into the nearest chair, resting her elbows on the desk and her head in her hands. She was trying desperately to figure out what was happening. Snape pulled up a chair and leaned forwards, his arms on the desk.

"What is happening, Asha?" he asked quietly.

" _Shut up!_ " she said desperately (and a lot louder than she had intended). Snape slowly leaned back in his chair and waited.

To Asha's relief, she sensed Snape retreat. She steadied her breath and attempted to process her mind's racing subconscious thoughts. Where _had_ she learned that? And there, right in front of her, was the crux of the problem. She _hadn't..._ But she _must have._ Every time her mind tried to wander back to her past, it jerked away. It was like her mind wasn't her own, and some eight-year-old with a joystick was yanking it around. Something was sparking in her memory but she couldn't put her finger on it; like when a word is on the tip of your tongue but you can't quite reach it. It was a terrifying feeling. And it was just more evidence that something about her was _wrong._ Something in her was _broken._

Asha didn't know how long it was before she looked up - it could have been twenty seconds or twenty minutes. She brushed her dark hair out of her face, rested her arms on the desk, and looked into the inscrutable face of the man opposite her. He was watching her carefully.

"I'm fine," she lied. He ignored this, continuing to survey her. Asha found his strong, anchored and highly controlled demeanour calming.

"Thanks," she said blankly.

"For what?" he demanded.

Asha shrugged, irritated that he couldn't just leave it. He paused, looking at her and thinking. Then he opened his mouth and spoke very slowly and quietly.

"Tell me what you are thinking."

Asha gave a short, derisive laugh. _No way._ She bit her lip, smirked sardonically and glared at him, shaking her head at the ludicrousy of the suggestion. _How would she even explain it? He would not understand, he would not be able to help, and he would probably tell fucking Dumbledore._

Snape pursed his lips in vexation. His black eyes bore into hers. Asha's mind was totally scattered and she didn't have time to break eye contact. She felt a dull pressure at the base of her skull and images of the group of boys and tin box flashed in front of her eyes. She heard the boy yell 'Where'd you learn that?' and experienced the flood of dread. Then there was a sharp flash and crack like static electricity and Snape grunted, stumbling from his chair. He stuck out an arm to brace himself on a nearby desk, while the other clutched his head.

"What did you just do!" he snarled. Asha jumped to her feet, startled.

"N-nothing! I didn't do anything!" she yelled, half shocked, half angry that he had once again used Legilimency on her. "Serves you right," she snapped. Snape quickly recovered himself and straightened up.

"Winters, I can't help you if you don't _let_ me!"

"I don't _need_ any help!" she fired back. "Besides, anything I tell you will just end up in the hands of Dumbledore, won't it?"

Snape suddenly looked very angry. 

" _What_ did he tell you?" He spoke softly but his eyes were flashing dangerously. Asha ignored the question.

"Did you tell him about the wandless magic too?" she asked darkly, matching his low volume.

"Of course not!" Snape spat, "then he would know you were with me over summer."

This answer half surprised her. Asha studied him, trying to gauge what he was thinking.

"In fact," Snape drawled icily, "since you seem to be under the impression that you are the centre of the universe, it may surprise you to hear that I have not talked to the Headmaster about you since last year." Asha narrowed her eyes and stepped closer to him until they were only a few feet apart.

" _Why_ were you talking about me in the first place?" she demanded fiercely. Snape's face contorted with outrage. Despite knowing this student better than any others, he couldn't believe she dared to speak to him in such a way. He leaned forward, lowering his face till it was inches from her own in an act of intimidation. Asha didn't back away.

"Because there is something strange going on with you, Winters." Snape's voice was so low and quiet, it came out as almost a rumbling whisper. "I just know it. _Someone_ is hiding something." Asha felt a rush of fear but she fought to keep her face blank. Somehow, Snape also understood that something about her wasn't right.

"Well, what does our _dear_ Headmaster think?" she mocked, somehow managing to maintain her composure despite her racing heart.

"Albus denies it!" Snape snapped irritably, his voice having suddenly returned to a normal volume. He stepped past her and began pacing the room, his mind whirring. Asha walked over to the window and leaned on the sill, absent-mindedly looking out over the courtyard. To Asha's confusion, her rush of fear had been followed by a wave of relief. _Why?_ Maybe because her long-held theory was being validated. Or maybe because someone was now facing the unknown alongside her. She took a deep breath.

"I asked Dumbledore if there was something wrong with me, and he brushed it off like it was a silly question," she said slowly, "he was very convincing." Snape snapped out of his muse and looked at Asha intently. "He said I just had more magic in my veins or something, and went off about me doing great things for the good of others or some rubbish like that."

Snape opened his mouth to say something but changed his mind. He leant back against the teacher's desk and folded his arms. His expression was once again unreadable. Asha had been watching him in the reflection of the window but now turned around to face him.

"Do you think he's lying?" she asked cautiously, trying to watch Snape's expression for any small give away. He looked at her suspiciously.

"So, you're not hiding anything?" he said slowly. Asha thought carefully about her response.

"Nothing important," she said firmly. She still did not want _anyone_ to know about her Parselmouth. She didn't quite know why; she just had a strong feeling against it.

Snape had registered that in deciding to tell him what Dumbledore had said, Asha had chosen to open up to him, even if it was just a tiny bit. But he knew this was a message. She wanted to trust him. So he tried again.

"Will you tell me what happened this afternoon?" he asked carefully. Asha pursed her lips.

"I can't wrap my own head around it, let alone explain it," she said finally.

"Please _try,_ " Snape urged.

"Fine," Asha sighed. "It's just, sometimes I _know_ things, and I don't know how. But in the past, it's just been small things and it's never been much of a problem, but today..." she met Snape's eyes and knew that he had seen the memory of her rolling the joint. "I've never smoked weed in my life," she said darkly. Her mouth had gone dry and she felt the familiar thrum of anxiety. "I just got a bit freaked out," she mumbled, returning her gaze to the courtyard. It was now nearly pitch black outside. Snape drummed his fingers on the edge of the desk and furrowed his brows.

"Where did it feel like you were getting the knowledge from? What were you thinking about when you were doing it?" he asked.

"Look, I'm done answering questions!" she snapped, not wanting to dwell on the terrifying truth. She missed Cole so much. He was the only person she could _really_ talk to. The grief threatened to swallow her so she pushed it away and channelled it into anger. "I shouldn't have even told you!" she hissed through gritted teeth.

"Fine," Snape said coldly, "get back to your dorm." He headed for the door.

"Wait, where are you going?" Asha asked urgently, certain he must be making straight for Dumbledore's office to share everything she had confided in him.

"To award detention to multiple sixth years for the possession and use of contraband," he said, pulling open the door.

"No! Please don't-" Asha was cut off as the door slammed shut.

 **A/N: I really liked this chapter c: If you're enjoying the story it would mean a lot to me if you pressed that little star!!** 🥰


	18. Duelling Diggory

**A/N: Just short n' sweet c:**

*****

Asha was utterly exhausted and infuriated by the unexplainable events that continued to plague her existence. _Why did it have to be her? Why not someone else? Hadn't she suffered enough?_ Then her internal monologue immediately reverted to: _Who are you to judge what you deserve? Other people suffer far greater hardships! Don't be so weak and whiny!_

A few minutes after Snape left, she stormed down the corridor, struggling to control the frustration and unease that was roiling inside her. Once in the basement, she tapped the barrels with her wand a lot harder than was necessary and strode into the common room. Cedric was sitting by the fire, conversing with some members of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. No longer caring who saw, Asha marched over and grabbed him by the arm.

"With me, Diggory," she ordered. He had no choice but to follow as she dragged him out into the corridor. The rest of the team was baffled.

"Woah, Ash, what's the matter?" Cedric asked once they had emerged from the common room.

"Nothing, I don't wanna talk about it, can we just duel please?"

"What, now? Dinner's about to start..."

" _Please,_ " Asha urged, "Just for a little bit? It'll clear my head."

"Er... yeah, okay then," Cedric conceded, "I've got a new shield charm I want to try out anyway."

As the pair entered the duelling room, Cedric glanced at Asha warily. She wasn't looking her normal self. She was paler than usual and had an agitated air about her. During their training sessions, Cedric had discovered that though Asha appeared friendly and not particularly strong, she was a fierce, resilient duelling opponent who wasn't afraid of being hit by nasty hexes or, in some cases, curses. Because of this, he found seeing her in a distressed state very disconcerting. He was deeply curious about what could've affected his usually imperturbable friend, but didn't press the subject.

Asha aggressively yanked off her coat and rolled up her sleeves, already enjoying the familiar anticipation of the fight and the magic buzzing within her.

"Walls or no walls?" asked Cedric. Sometimes they would set up enchanted barriers of wooden pallets and dive behind them to make the duel more interesting. But Asha was in no mood to hide.

"Think fast, Diggory," she called, before sending knockback jinx straight at him. Cedric blocked the spell just in time and it rebounded, heading straight for Asha. She lazily drew a film of shimmering magic in front of her and the jet of white light hit it with a dull thud and was absorbed.

"Oh, so we're playing like that are we?" Cedric smirked. He muttered " _Stupefy_ " and a blue-white light soared towards Asha. But she had anticipated it and blocked the spell with a flick of her wand.

Feeling the power at her fingertips, Asha finally felt _in control_ enough to unleash her emotions. She channelled all her feelings of hate, fear and injustice into the duel and suddenly she was firing spell after spell. Flaming balls of blinding light exploded from her wand, each one more powerful than the next. They were coming so quickly, all Cedric could do was maintain his shield charm and brace himself as the shockwaves blasted through the room one after another. Asha didn't even know what spells she was casting anymore. The room flashed blue, then red, then white. The release of built-up energy and the feeling of power and control were like a breath of fresh air.

Suddenly Asha registered yelling over the banging and whistling of her hexes. She immediately stopped. She expected to feel shaky and weak after such an excursion. Instead, she felt calm and relaxed, like all the tension in her body had dissolved. However, this sensation was instantly replaced by one of gut-wrenching dread. At the other end of the room, the stone wall was blown apart and scorched. Asha's breath caught in her throat. _Where was Cedric?_ She rapidly scanned the rubble for any sign of him.

"Ash..." came a hoarse voice. Asha's tunnel vision arrested and her body sagged with relief. Cedric was leaning on the left wall of the room, panting, but smiling weakly.

" _Fuck,_ " Asha breathed, "I'm sorry, I don't know..." She fidgeted uncomfortably with her wand. "I went a bit overboard."

"You think!" Cedric exclaimed. "I didn't even know it was possible to cast that quickly!" He sounded half angry, half impressed.

"Oh shit," Asha muttered, suddenly noticing Cedric's thigh. She jogged over to him as he winced, sitting down on a stack of pallets.

"I knew I couldn't hold my shield much longer so I tried to dive out of the way - clearly I wasn't quick enough," grimaced Cedric, "must've been an Expulso Curse?"

Asha didn't reply. She didn't want to admit she had lost track of what she was shooting at him. He wouldn't be able to comprehend it anyway - he could only cast a few blocking spells non-verbally. It was impossible to lose track of spells when you had to call out their incantation each time.

"Did you not notice I'd moved?" Cedric winced as Asha healed his burn, "did you not hear me yelling at you?"

"You should've used _Sonorous_ , you idiot," Asha retorted. Her voice had a cold edge to it; hardly able to stand the guilt, she had subconsciously converted the emotion into anger. _She could've seriously hurt him_. She met Cedric's eyes and saw he was taken aback by her heartless response. She bit the inside of her lip and mumbled, "I'm really sorry."

After a long, awkward pause Cedric said, "Listen, I think we should have a break from duelling."

"But the first task's in a fortnight!" Asha objected.

"And there are tons of other ways I can prepare for it. I doubt they'll pit the Champions against each other in the first round," Cedric reasoned, though anxiety flickered across his face. "Plus, I can't risk getting _injured_ ". He stood up, muttered, "Thanks for healing my leg," and left the room.


	19. Nightmares

Asha skipped dinner and went straight to bed. That was the night her dreams began. At least, that's what she assumed they were. The first time it happened she awoke suddenly with her heart racing and sweat beading on her forehead. She continued to lie very still and tried to remember what she had been dreaming about, but couldn't.

The next night it happened again. She bolted upright with a gasp and grasped the edges of the mattress as fear slowly drained from her body. 

Two days later, Jules reported Asha had been thrashing beneath her blankets for minutes at a time and mumbling in her sleep. 

On the fifth night, both Asha and her roommates awoke to her indiscernible yelling. After that, she made sure to cast a muffling spell around her bed before she went to sleep.

These _episodes_ began to happen multiple times per night and it was getting to the point where Asha was dreading going to sleep, knowing she would wake a few hours later with a sweat-soaked shirt and her heart ready to burst from her chest. It frustrated her to no end that she couldn't remember what the nightmares were about, although, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Totally exhausted from her disturbed sleep, and wanting to avoid social interaction, Asha spent all of Saturday sitting by the Black Lake, leaning against the trunk of a large tree. It was now well into autumn and orange leaves carpeted the hard, frosty ground. Despite the chill, she was warm and comfortable in her thick, heating-charmed coat. It was peaceful. Only once did a group of Durmstrang boys wander past and harass her about accompanying them to Hogsmeade. Between drifting in and out of light sleep, she contemplated the unsolvable mysteries of her life, and whether or not Snape had talked to Dumbledore about what she'd told him.

*

In the early hours of Sunday morning, the world was suddenly filled with a horrific, rasping scream. Asha awoke with such a force that she fell off her four-poster onto the cold stone floor, wrapped in a cocoon of tangled blankets. Only then did she realise the screams were her own. The noise stopped abruptly as she sat up, panting and shaking, listening to the pulse of rushing blood in her ears. Her throat was raw. How long had she been screaming like that?

Even though Asha felt tired enough to drop back to sleep immediately, she pulled on an over-sized sweater and a pair of woollen socks, grabbed her wand, and crept out into the common room. For a while, she sat by the dimly glowing hearth, determined not to succumb to sleep. But her eyelids continued to stubbornly droop and she realised she would have to stay on her feet if she wanted to evade the nightmares.

The corridors of Hogwarts were pitch black and freezing. Asha could feel the stone floor sucking her body heat through her socks as she padded around the castle. She still felt weak and shaky and her breathing was shallow. Even if she couldn't remember her nightmares, it seemed her body certainly did. Adrenaline put her on edge and she kept imagining terrible creatures lurking in the darkness. The suits of armour cast ominous shadows in the glow of her wand and occasionally portraits would grumble at the light, demanding what sort of hour she called this.

After a few laps of the first floor, Asha stopped abruptly and did a one-eighty. Her heart skipped a beat. _What was that?_ She'd heard a noise. A whisper maybe. Suddenly a light began to grow from behind the corner she had just rounded. A tapping noise echoed about the corridor. Her heart-rate doubled but she was frozen to the spot with fear, her wand pointing in the direction of the fast-approaching white light. A tiny yelp escaped Asha's lips as a glowing ball rounded the corner followed by a terrifying dark mass. Instinctively she cast a powerful protective spell which formed a glowing blue web that filled the entire width of the corridor. The dark mass halted and the blinding light dimmed.

"What in Merlin's name do you think you are doing, Winters?" came an impatient, growl.

Asha's eyes adjusted and she snapped back into reality. Embarrassed, she quickly dissolved her shield. Before her stood the tall, cloaked figure of Professor Snape. He was holding his illuminated wand at waist-height and giving Asha a stern, shrewd look.

"I didn't take you for someone who is afraid of the dark," Snape drawled suspiciously as he approached her. "What could you possibly think roams this castle that you would need protection against?"

Asha didn't say anything. Instead, she held a defiant expression while fighting to control her quivering hands. She was not used to feeling so afraid. Her dreams had really put her on edge. Snape sighed irritably.

"What is it this time?" he demanded with the usual sharp edge to his voice. He was about to add ' _or are you just out for a stroll, assuming, as usual, that the rules do not apply to you?_ ' but stopped himself, noticing the girl's eyes were flashing with something he couldn't place, and her face was abnormally pale.

Asha was adamant she was not going to present Snape with the childish truth that she'd had a bad dream and was scared to go back to sleep. She decided that making him angry was the best way to keep him off the subject of _why_ she was out of bed.

"Why are you always up?" she snapped, but instead of sounding rude and defiant as she had intended, her voice came out weak and husky. "Don't you ever sleep?" she added sharply. Snape scoffed at this remark, then continued to scrutinise her. He wasn't fooled.

"What's happened?" he inquired in a low voice that made Asha's stomach knot. Snape glanced around the corridors before leading her by the forearm into the cover of a small alcove in the wall and dimmed the glow of his wand even further. When Asha didn't respond he added in a forceful but hushed voice, "I thought you had decided to trust me. Do not waste my time!"

Asha looked into Snape's shadowed, narrow face; into his burning glare. She felt a strange sensation in her chest and reluctantly took this as a sign to tell him.

"I've been waking up from nightmares I can't remember," she said plainly. Snape's eyes narrowed.

"If you can't remember them, how do you know -" he began.

"Because I wake up screaming," Asha interrupted, her voice still croaky, "Or shouting, or ..." she trailed off. She didn't want to admit that once or twice she'd found tears streaming down her face. "And my heart... It's like my body's terrified but my mind's not on the same page."

Snape stepped back from her. Asha hadn't realised they'd been standing so close. After a few seconds of airy silence, he said quietly, "For how long? You look..." he didn't finish the sentence.

"Like shit?" suggested Asha, "ten days. And it's only been getting worse," she added spitefully. In the dim glow of his wand, Asha saw Snape frown.

"So ever since..."

Asha raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to finish the sentence. There were a plethora of phrases for him to chose from; memory lapse, panic attack, episode, _breakdown._ Annoyance flashed across Snape's face in response to her confronting pose. He did not rise to the bait, instead, pressing his lips together in a thin line.

"I suppose," Asha began sardonically, "it is not a coincidence."

There was a long silence, throughout which Snape thought carefully while watching Asha closely. She was leaning her back against the wall with her arms crossed, staring out into the darkness.

"If strange things keep happening you will need to talk to the headmaster," Snape said firmly. "He denies it, but I am sure he knows _something_ ," his voice now only a quiet rumble.

"I'm _not_ going to Dumbledore!" Asha whispered. Her opinion of the headmaster had dropped dramatically ever since Harry Potter's name was pulled from the Goblet of Fire.

"Don't be childish!" hissed Snape. Asha's chest twisted with anger at the accusation. Snape sneered at the look of indignation that had crossed his student's face.

"Can't you just deduct some house points and send me back to my dorm already?!" Asha snapped. Snape gave her a venomous look and Asha realised her snide comment had gone too far. She tried to recover the situation by hastily adding "...sir."

Snape's eyes narrowed and Asha braced herself for an onslaught of reprimands. But that was not what she received.

"I can give you a potion for dreamless sleep," Snape stated blankly, "I'll have it delivered to your room tomorrow". Asha failed to hide her surprise. "Though it is only a temporary fix," he warned, "it cannot be used consecutively for more than a fortnight before its effects begin to wane."

Asha was getting highly uncomfortable with the amount of gratitude, reliance and debt she was accruing for this man.


	20. The First Task

**A/N: In celebration of reaching chapter TWENTY!! I added my favourite SS fanart above ^^ I think it does a really great job of capturing Rickman's essence. (I'm not sure who the original artist is to give credit sorry!** 😬 **)**

*****

The 24th of November finally arrived. Asha met her friends in the Great Hall for lunch and flashed Cedric a small good luck smile before he was whisked off with the other Champions to prepare for the first task. The entire school was buzzing. Only half-listening to the chatter around her, Asha found her eyes wandering to Snape's empty seat. She guessed he must be helping prepare for the competition, much like many of the other professors.

Eager to find out what the task entailed, Asha and the large group of Hufflepuffs ate quickly before donning their beanies and scarfs and heading out of the castle. As they approached the stadium, Asha's stomach fluttered in nervous anticipation for Cedric. Had she been her usual self, she would've longed to be in the Champions' shoes. But in her exhausted, unstable state, she was grateful to only be spectating.

When at last the stands were full, Ludo Bagman announced the task. _Dragons_. Asha watched in awe as ten wizards struggled to lead a beautiful blue-grey Swedish Short-Snout into the centre of the enclosure where a clutch of eggs lay.

Cedric was up first. The crowd burst into cheers as he entered the enclosure. Asha couldn't bring herself to join in - Cedric's pale-green complexion was not helping to quell Asha's concern for him. Smoke furled from the dragon's nostrils as it swung around to face its opponent. It bared its teeth and a deep, reverberating growl emanated from its throat. Asha clenched her teeth as she identified the tell-tale signs that the dragon was preparing to breathe fire. For a few terrifying moments, it looked like Cedric was frozen to the spot. He suddenly dived to the side as a roaring jet of fire engulfed the spot he had been standing moments ago. A wave of heat radiated over the stands. The Short-Snout clawed at the rocky ground and sent another stream of flames in Cedric's direction. He lept out of the way, disappearing behind a large boulder.

For many minutes, Cedric did not reappear. The dragon prowled back to the clutch of eggs, snapping at the air in irritation. Asha watched silently, nervously fidgetting with the buttons of her coat. _What was he doing? ... What would_ she _have done?_ All of a sudden a large golden labrador burst out from behind the boulder and raced around the perimeter of the enclosure. The dragon roared, unfurling its wings and sending a surge of fire at the dog which, to the crowd's relief, missed.

While the eyes of everyone in the stadium were on the dog and the Short-Snout, Asha was staring intently in the other direction. Cedric was creeping over the jagged terrain towards the exposed nest of eggs. _It was so risky._ Asha willed the dragon not to turn around. The labrador was cowering, tail between its legs, at the very end of the enclosure. To Asha's horror, she realised the Short-Snout would all too quickly realise that the dog was not a threat to its eggs. The dragon began to step backwards, returning to the nest at the centre of the enclosure. The crowd, having noticed Cedric's plan, had fallen deathly quiet. Only the deep rumble of the dragon's breath and the creaking of the stands could be heard.

Cedric was halfway to the clutch of eggs when the edge of his shoe caught a loose stone. Everything seemed to unfold in slow motion as Asha watched the stone drop off a small ledge and bounce along the rocky ground below. The noise echoed through the stadium. Every single member of the crowd held their breath. A split second later the dragon's head whipped around and its burning eyes honed in on Cedric. It let out an ear-splitting screech of rage as its powerful body twisted around to face him. As it spun, its huge tail swept across the ground and struck a rock the size of an armchair. Everyone around Asha screamed and as the rock flew across the enclosure towards their section of the stands. Before Asha had even registered what was happening, she instinctively stuck out her arm, her palm pointing at the boulder that was heading straight for her. She felt an immense surge of energy rush through her body and with something between a _crack_ and a _boom_ the boulder exploded. Chunks of rock hurtled back into the enclosure, raining down on Cedric and the Short-Snout.

Asha withdrew her arm in shock. All eyes were on her section of the stands, but she blended in amongst the chaos of the other students. Across the stadium, professors Flitwick, McGonagall, Dumbledore and Snape were all on their feet with their wands raised to the spot the boulder had been just moments ago. It could have been any of them who cast the spell... Gasps of relief and nervous laughter emanated from the group of Hufflepuff students, followed by a surge of chatter. Then there was an ear-splitting screech like scraping metal and the crowd's attention was quickly drawn back to the dragon.

Meanwhile, Asha's heart was thundering against her ribcage as waves of dread coursed throughout her body. The ringing in her ears drowned out all surrounding noise. _What the fuck had just happened?! How had she done that?_ Without thinking, her eyes scanned the opposite end of the stadium. When her gaze landed on Snape her stomach knotted as she realised his eyes were already drilling into her. _He knew._ She quickly averted her gaze, only to meet eyes with Dumbledore. Now Asha was too shocked to look away. The headmaster's expression was harder than usual; his normally friendly blue eyes were clouded with an intensity Asha had not seen. Within a split second, Dumbledore had returned his attention to the arena, leaving Asha to wonder if she had met his eyes at all.

"You alright, Ash?" asked Matt, who was standing to her right.

Asha suddenly became aware she was shaking. She felt like she was viewing the world through a surreal lens. The volume of the cheering and claustrophobia of the enclosing crowd intensified, becoming unbearable. Asha heard herself mumble something about needing water and pushed her way along the stands before dashing down the stairs.

Once outside the stadium, the noise of the dragon and crowd dimmed and the icy open air was a relief. Asha's head was spinning with thoughts she was unable to catch. Hardly aware of her surroundings, she stumbled around the edge of the arena, trying to evade any of her friends who might have followed her. She weaved among the wooden support beams that made up the stadium's foundations.

Just the memory of what had happened moments ago sent tendrils of panic snaking through her body. She didn't understand why. Asha leaned her forehead against a beam and closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. Once again, her brain was sluggish and foggy. She felt nauseous.

Out of nowhere, a burning anger swelled inside of her. _What the hell was wrong with her?!_ She clenched her fists and her whole body tingled with fury and fear. Asha gasped as freezing cold water washed down her back. She jumped aside and spun around, but found nothing there. She looked up, wondering if water had fallen through the stands from high above her. As she did so, she twisted her arm around to touch her coat and was shocked to find it completely dry. Confused, Asha shoved her hand down the back of her shirt and found her skin was also dry. Any feeling of the icy water had vanished. With that, her anger returned. _Was she the subject of some kind of sick game?_ She automatically reached for her wand but found her pocket empty - students were forbidden from bringing their wands to Triwizard events.

She sat down on a low beam, one leg propped up, and leaned back against a pillar. She tried to focus on her breathing. She felt in desperate need of an escape. Her mind drifted to Hagrid's stash of Firewhisky. _It would be easy to steal a bottle while everyone was at the Tournament._

The almost inaudible crunch of a boot on frosty grass snapped Asha out of her scheming. The tall, lean figure of Professor Snape appeared from within the maze of wooden frames.

"Shouldn't you be in the stadium, protecting the students?" said Asha stiffly, as the potions master approached. He was dressed in a slim-fitting, black coat which brushed his knees. His wand was still in his hand from the boulder-scare that had happened only minutes ago. He slowed in front of Asha and eyed her carefully.

"The rest of the staff are perfectly capable," he said slowly, "Besides, I was under the impression you had taken that duty into your own hands."

Asha narrowed her eyes at him. Snape's expression was cautious and calculating.

"How would I do that without a wand?" she retorted bitterly. Snape rolled his own wand between his slender fingers.

"Indeed," he murmured.

Asha folded her arms and stared determinedly in the other direction. Snape moved to the beam in front of her and leaned his shoulder against it.

"Don't make me ask," he said quietly, casting his eyes around the surrounding area to ensure they were alone.

The last thing Asha felt like doing was talking. Her mind felt broken again and she wanted to be alone. But something in Snape's deep voice and commanding onyx eyes tugged at her chest. She wanted him to know. She wanted him on her side.

"It was instinctive," she said firmly, "I don't know how I did it and I wouldn't be able to repeat it."

Snape's brow furrowed, then he asked, "Are what happened today and when you wounded your leg at my cottage the only two instances of wandless magic you have encountered?"

Asha opened her mouth, ready to reply, but found herself with no words to say. She closed it and frowned at the ground, trying to sift through her thoughts for what had been on the tip of her tongue. For some reason, Cole kept rising to the surface. Meanwhile, Snape was watching her every move, the cogs of his mind whirring.

When, after a minute, the girl still hadn't replied, he urged, " _Asha?_ "

"What?" Asha mumbled absent-mindedly, before waking from her thoughts, "Oh, er... no, I mean yes, those are the only times." She looked Snape in the eye and he could tell she was telling the truth. He sat next to her and stared out into the misty hills, thinking. Asha's eyes were drawn to his wand, which he was once again rolling between his fingers. It was a dark brown wood and shaped in a way she had never seen before.

Asha wasn't sure why she did it; perhaps she was just longing for her own wand, but she held out a hand to Snape. He turned to her, glancing between her eyes and her outstretched hand looking both confused and irritated. Asha nodded her head towards his wand. Snape's face morphed into one of suspicion and annoyance, but after a moment's hesitation, he handed it to her. Asha ignored his look of warning. The wood felt warm and light. It was slender, with slight periodic variations in thickness.

"Elm?" Asha asked quietly.

Snape gave a small nod, wondering why on earth he had consented to give her his wand. Looking more closely, Asha saw it was engraved with an intricate, vine-like pattern, but was overall simplistic. She had a sudden urge to cast with it but resisted. It suddenly felt oddly intimate to be examining Snape's wand and Asha quickly handed it back to him.

"I think it would be wise to talk to the Headmaster," he said as he returned the wand to his inside pocket.

"He was looking at me!" said Asha, suddenly remembering.

"What do you mean?" said Snape sharply, "When?"

"Right after I... the wandless magic, there were only two people in the whole stadium looking at me - you... and Dumbledore." Bitterness crept into Asha's voice as she said the old man's name. _Was Dumbledore lying to her?_

Snape's face flashed with anger but resumed a blank expression so rapidly that Asha thought she must have imagined it. He stood up swiftly and straightened his coat.

"Come," he demanded.

"Where?" said Asha warily. Apparently refusing to answer her question, Snape held out his hand, glaring at her. Asha hesitated, then took it. Snape pulled her onto her feet, then released her hand, striding towards the castle. She followed him as Ludo Bagman's booming voice announced that Krum was entering the enclosure. Asha swallowed guiltily, realising she had forgotten all about Cedric.

 **A/N: Thanks for the support** 🥰


	21. Late Night Potions

**A/N: What's a great tiktok you've watched lately? I'm** 👏🏻 **Addicted** 👏🏻 **I just watched that one where the guy's like "be honest, if you worked at the movie theatre, would you check under my hat?" and he's got this pointy blue wizard's hat on that goes all the way up to the fuckin roof** 😂😂 **There's also some excellent HP tiktoks out there** 👌🏻👌🏻 **I. Can't. Stop. I watched tiktok compilations till 7am the other night... IM IN THE MIDDLE OF AN ENGINEERING DEGREE WHAT AM I DOING WATCHING TIKTOKS ALL NIGHT AND WRITING SNAPE FANFICTION AHAHAHAHA HELP**

 **jk I stand by my choices** 😌🧙🏻‍♀️

*****

It took Asha a surprising amount of effort to keep pace with Snape as he took long, brisk strides up the frosty hillside and into the castle. _Where was he taking her? And to do what?_ As she obediently followed him through the deserted corridors (which were very nostalgic of her time spent at Hogwarts during summer break), Snape abruptly turned right and descended into the basement.

"Here you go," he said bluntly, stopping outside the Hufflepuff common room.

"What? What the-" Asha began to protest angrily.

"Just get inside," he insisted, "You can tell your little friends you were feeling ill". When Asha made no move except to glare at him, he glanced over his shoulder to check no one else had entered the corridor before saying, " _Quickly._ I have something I need to do and it is _time-dependent._ "

Unperturbed by his dangerous tone, Asha said, "What are you going to do?"

"I am your professor and you will do as I say or there will be serious consequences, Winters" he hissed in a voice that would've brought first-year students to tears.

Asha crossed her arms and stubbornly scowled at him.

" _Please just do it,_ " Snape growled urgently through gritted teeth. The way he said it caught Asha off guard and after a moment's hesitation, she reluctantly decided to comply.

"Fine. You can tell me later," she said coldly, before entering the common room.

An hour later, excited students began to file back into the castle. Alisha, Maive, Rachel and Jules burst into their dorm to find Asha lying on top of her bed. As expected, the girls bombarded her with questions about where she had been. The lies rolled off Asha's tongue as she told them she'd felt unwell and was gutted she'd missed most of the action.

Once her explanation was over, she hastily asked: "How did Cedric Diggory do?" The girls launched into the story of his success.

"He got a pretty bad burn on his face though," said Maive, "He's with Madam Pomfrey at the moment."

"Hopefully she can stop any scarring on that sexy face of his," smirked Alisha. The four girls broke into giggles.

Asha was accustom to joining in with this childish behaviour in order to fit in, but today she was not in the mood. Plus, the fact anyone thought Cedric was sexy blew her mind - he looked about twelve. Still feeling exhausted, depressed, and angry, Asha told the others she still felt ill and needed to rest. They took the hint and left her alone.

By the time dinner rolled around, Asha was dreading the loud, student-filled Great Hall, but her rumbling stomach got the best of her. She threw on a second-hand sweatshirt and made her messy hair presentable by braiding it over her shoulder with her wand.

Upon entering the Great Hall she nearly turned around and walked straight out again. The four house tables were as rowdy as ever, with many reenactments of both the Champions and the dragons taking place among groups of students. Hogwarts, Durmstrang andBeauxbatons banners had been hung in tribute to the four Champions. 

Luckily, Asha was very late to the feast and a group of Hufflepuff first years were returning to the common room, leaving a large empty space at the furthest end of the table. Not wanting to be noticed by her fellow Hufflepuff fourth years, Asha slipped down the aisle between the sidewall and Gryffindor table.

She risked a quick glance at the staff table and was relieved to see that Dumbledore was not present. Neither, she noticed, was Snape. Asha thought it was strange that the Headmaster was not present, given that tonight's feast was partly to show appreciation for the judges, ministry officials and dragon keepers involved in the day's task.

Keeping her head down, she crossed to the Hufflepuff bench and sat down alone, avoiding eye contact with anyone. Unfortunately, due to her late arrival, only desserts lined the table, but Asha was simply there to quell her hunger so she filled a bowl with fruit and walnut cake. The raucous noise of the Hall was almost unbearable and it took all of her will-power and experience from potion brewing to focus her mind solely on eating her fruit. Never the less, Asha was starting to get that uneasy feeling again.

She took a bite of the cake and immediately pushed her bowl away. She felt sick. Her brain was playing up again and her limbs felt heavy. She was _so tired._ She felt like crying, which was immediately followed by anger at herself for being so weak. _Why was she so pathetic?_

A dull _clink_ sounded from her fist. Looking down, Asha realised she had been tightly clenching her spoon. She opened her palm and the utensil fell on to the table in two pieces. It had split perfectly in half, the handle severed from the scoop. She stared at the broken pieces, feeling numb. Then she stood abruptly and left the Hall. She was sick of everything. All she wanted was to go to bed and disappear.

Asha was halfway to the common room when a voice called from behind her.

"There you are, Ash!"

She turned to see Cedric jogging down the corridor. His care-free smile lightened her heart enough for her to put on a pleasant front.

"I'm glad to see you're face isn't ruined," Asha grinned, before accepting a hug.

"Me too," Cedric laughed. Up close he looked tired but buzzing.

"How are you feeling?" Asha asked.

"So relieved that it's over! I was so nervous!"

"Yeah, I'm sorry I wasn't really around leading up to it," said Asha genuinely.

"Are you kidding?" exclaimed Cedric, still smiling ear-to-ear, "I'm the idiot who cut our training. And your duelling was the best preparation for that task. How do you think I dodged all that fire!"

"Well, not all of it," Asha teased. Cedric punched her arm playfully. There was a pause.

"Hey, so anyway, I've actually been looking for you because I've got something I need to ask you while this adrenaline high lasts," said Cedric. He nervously glanced down at his hands, looking very out of character. Asha was wary about where this was going. "I was wondering if you would go to the Yule Ball with me? I know you-"

"The what?" Asha interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

"-want to keep our friendship on the down-low but- ... wait. You haven't heard about the Yule Ball?"

Asha shook her head, shrugging. Recently she'd been slack when it came to paying attention to her friends' conversations.

"Have you been living under a rock?!" said Cedric incredulously. "It's the Christmas Ball - traditional for the Tournament."

"Ooh," Asha breathed in realisation, "well, dancing and dressing up definitely aren't my thing, so thanks for the offer but no thank you, I will definitely be avoiding that," she laughed, trying to keep the situation light so Cedric wouldn't feel awkward. "Besides, I'm sure you won't struggle to find a girl willing to accompany you."

There was a hint of disappointment on Cedric's face but he laughed and said, "Yeah, I never thought I'd get tired of girls being interested in me."

As the pair walked back to the common room they chatted about the Tournament. Asha purposefully omitted the fact she was not present for the entirety of Cedric's round. He held the door open for her and loud music flooded into the corridor.

"On second thoughts, I might avoid the partying," said Asha hastily.

"Oh come on, Ash, you'll have a good time I promise," urged Cedric. Asha smiled.

"Congrats on today, Diggory. Go enjoy your party." She squeezed him on the shoulder before turning and disappearing down the corridor.

As Asha walked through the castle, sticking to empty corridors, she was lost in a sea of thoughts. She was so wrapped up in the maze of her mind that she was barely aware of her surroundings and unaware of where she was going. After a short time, she found herself standing outside the door of Snape's classroom. She pushed on the door and found it locked. Pulling out her wand she cast _Alohomora._ Nothing happened. Asha smirked; _trust Snape to use a more complicated locking spell._ It took her three more attempts before the lock clicked and she pushed the door open.

The room was dark compared to the torch-lit corridor, but surprisingly warm. The only light was from the side bench where two cauldrons sat bubbling on orange flames. The door softly swung closed and Asha felt a relieved exhaustion overwhelm her. The air was sprinkled with the scent of smokey wood and spices which, for some reason, made her feel calmer and grounded. She slumped into a desk at the back of the class and rested her head on her arms. Asha fell asleep listening to the soft drone of the bubbling cauldrons.

*

At two o'clock in the morning, Severus Snape finally accepted that lying on his back, staring at the ceiling was not, in fact, a productive use of his time. He sighed irritably, got out of bed, and dressed in a black collared shirt which he tucked into a pair of his usual back dress pants. It was unnecessary to garb his full attire; he only dressed for the off-chance that a student or professor was out of bed.

Donning his cloak, he swept through the private passageway that led from his chambers to the storage cupboard behind the main potions room. Once inside he selected some ingredients and carried them into the classroom. Upon entering, he immediately stiffened, having noticed a dark, hunched figure occupying a desk at the other end of the room.

Severus slowly and silently approached. As the firelight flickered he recognised the familiar shine of Asha's long dark hair and her delicate face peeking out from behind it. After a moment's thought, he backed away quietly. He would let the girl sleep for now and send her back to her dorm before morning.

Placing the ingredients on his desk, Severus removed his cloak and hung it over the back of his chair. He had decided to prepare some indicator solutions for his seventh year students and quietly set to work under the dim glow of the simmering cauldrons.

After just over an hour of working, Severus heard a murmuring from behind him. He corked the vile he was holding and placed it in a rack before turning. Asha had not moved. He stood perfectly still, listening. Once again, indistinct murmuring sounded from the girl's lips. It grew in volume until he could just make out the words.

"No... no... don't... don't do it... "

The professor cautiously moved between the desks, listening hard. Asha's whimpering words grew even louder.

"Don't go... crash... please crash... don't..."

Her hands were clenched into fists and her breathing was rapid. Severus silently sank into a nearby chair, intent on interpreting the meaning of her sleep-talking.

"No, no," pleaded Asha, her voice desperate. "STOP!!" she yelled all of a sudden, bolting upright so violently that she began to topple backwards off her chair. With lightning speed, Severus grabbed her shoulders and steadied her.

*

Asha gasped with panic, her eyes wide. She didn't know where she was. Her heart was racing, she was out of breath, and a man was gripping her arms tightly. With fear and adrenaline pumping through her veins, Asha yelled and tried to wrench herself free from the stranger's grip.

"Asha!" came a sharp voice. It was familiar. "Asha, stop! Listen to me!" The voice was urgent and commanding, yet reassuring. Asha fought to control herself and stilled. Coming to her senses, Snape's face came into focus in the dim light. She remembered: _she had fallen asleep in the potions classroom_ _..._

 _"_ Asha, what were you dreaming about?" Snape demanded.

"What?" she replied, confused. She rubbed her eyes, trying to wake up and calm her skittish brain. Snape's grip on her upper arms tightened.

" _Think!_ " he hissed, "what were you just dreaming about!?"

Finally realising what was going on, Asha tried with all her might to place herself back into the nightmare she'd been immersed in only seconds ago. After a tense minute of silence, she sighed in frustration. It was impossible.

"I don't know," she said bitterly, "there's nothing there."

Snape grunted in frustration and released his grip on her shoulders. Asha suddenly became aware of a hot, tingling sensation in her palms. Opening her clenched hands, she saw blood spilling from where her nails had cut into her skin.

"You do understand," Snape began pointedly, "that this could be important, Wint-" he cut off, having glanced down at Asha's palms. She quickly closed her fists and slid them away from him. Snape calmly pulled out his wand and leaned across the desk. Wrapping his fingers around one of Asha's wrists, he drew her hand away from her body, towards him. He pried open her fingers with a gentleness she had not expected him to be capable of. Something about his cool, slender fingers touching hers made her stomach swirl uncomfortably. He trailed his wand over her punctured palm and watched as the blood was absorbed back into the cuts and her skin knitted closed, leaving no hint of a scar. He did the same to her other hand. Neither of them said anything.

After a pause, Snape stood up. He walked to the other end of the room and began using his wand to syphon pale purple liquid from a small cauldron into vials. His tall figure was silhouetted against the glow of the fire in front of him. He was dressed oddly (for the professor's usual standards) - far more casual and less bat-like. For the first time, Asha realised he was much younger than his stern demeanour portrayed. She had always grouped him in with the era of McGonagall, but in fact he must only be in his thirties. The thought left Asha with a strange feeling in her chest.

Still sitting, she drew out her wand and sent a ball of yellow light towards the clock above the door. It read 3:24 am. Snape continued to work, no longer acknowledging Asha's presence. He seemed tense and irritated.

In no mood to return to her dorm, Asha leaned back in her chair and kicked her feet onto the desk. Her heart rate had finally returned to normal. Asha was wary of speaking to Snape, knowing that he would be quick to send her back to her dorm. But the temptation to talk to him was too much, especially now the adrenaline in her veins had her wide awake.

"I forgot to take the potion," she said, stating the obvious.

"You also forgot to go to bed," he replied coldly, not turning around.

"Can you blame me for not wanting to listen to shit music and 'three cheers for Diggory' all night long?"

Snape didn't reply. They existed in silence for a few more minutes. Asha considered offering to help him with whatever he was doing but decided he would decline anyway. Suddenly she remembered:

"What did you do today after you forced me into the common room?" she asked pointedly, taking her legs off the desk.

"That is none of your business," he replied sharply. Asha stood up and opened her mouth to retort, but Snape stopped what he was doing and turned around to face her. Asha raised an eyebrow angrily as if daring him to defy her. He strode towards her and met her eyes with an intense gaze. His glare wasn't angry; it was severe and warning. He spoke quietly with harsh articulation.

"I will _not_ be discussing the matter with you, and you will not be able to persuade me otherwise. Do not bother trying."

Asha felt a tightness in her chest that overrode her anger as she stared back into his swirling dark eyes.

"Fine," she conceded coldly. Returning to her desk, she propped her head up with one hand as she used the other to produce miniature imitations of dragon fire with her wand. Snape crossed his arms and leaned back against the bench, watching her.

"I can't believe I missed the dragons," Asha grumbled after a while. Snape didn't respond. "I read all about the Fireball and Horntail in one of your books. It would've been amazing to see them in the flesh. Imagine actually getting to oppose them..." Asha drifted off into thought, thinking about Dumbledore's decline to let her enter her name for the Tournament. "Good thing Potter did so well," she muttered resentfully.

"What do you have against Potter?" Snape questioned. Asha glanced at him then looked away, feeling caught out.

"Dumbledore assured me there would be no exceptions to the age restriction," she said blankly. The corner of Snape's mouth twitched.

"You asked him to put your name in the Cup?" he asked slowly. Asha didn't reply, instead sending another small burst of flame from her wand tip. "I thought you didn't like being noticed," Snape said in a tone that was curious rather than mocking.

"Yeah, well, just like Dumbledore, I have my exceptions," Asha replied darkly, folding her arms and staring at the back wall.

For some time, neither of them spoke. Finally, Asha looked over at Snape and asked, "Do you think I should talk to him?"

He looked back at her carefully.

"Perhaps," he said slowly. There was a pause. "But for now, you need to return to your dorm and get into bed like every other student in this castle. I trust I _don't_ need to escort you?"

Asha sighed inwardly and stood up, feeling the beginnings of a headache. She was halfway to the door when she turned around. Snape was still watching her.

"What keeps you from sleeping?" she asked softly, willing him to answer her. Snape's face hardened.

"Goodnight, Winters," he said firmly. Asha gave an almost imperceptible nod, indicating she understood it was too heavy a question. Opening the door with a flick of her wand, she left the classroom.


	22. Breaking Point

**A/N: Only 1-2 more chapters until you finally get some answers!! ... And the romance can BEGIN** 🙃 **It only took 22 goddamn chapters... oopsie** 😅 **But look at all this trust, understanding and shared experiences we've built up first - personally I think that's what we needed to make anything with bloody walled up, closed book Snape plausible** 😂 **(And by 'begin the romance' I mean _begin_ as in get on a first name basis **🤭😅 **and maybe finally get to describe how freakin sexy his voice is haha cause Ash will actually start to notice! ffs how can you not SEE him Ash?!)**

 **PS do u find my authors notes annoying cause I can stop** 🙊🤷🏻‍♀️

*****

"Ash, what the hell did you do to your back!?" exclaimed Maive. Asha didn't even feel surprised. She just felt a heavy knot of familiar dread form in her stomach. _What was it this time?_

It was only a few hours since she had returned from Snape's class. She and her roommates were dressing into their school robes, about to head to breakfast. Asha finished hooking the clasp on her bra then walked over to the mirror.

"What?" she asked, sounding nonchalant as she twisted her neck awkwardly, trying to see the reflection of her back in the mirror.

"Oh Merlin's Beard!" cried Alisha, "What have you done to yourself? Has that always been there?"

"No way," insisted Jules, "I've never seen that before."

"Neither have I!" added Rachel, who had paused halfway through buttoning her shirt.

Asha swiped her wand off her bed and turned her back to the mirror. She waved the wand over her shoulder and said, " _Glacio,"_ then turned around. Her stomach lurched into her throat. In the mirror was a frozen image of her back which showed a vertical white scar starting at the base of her neck, running down between her shoulder blades and ending just below her bra strap. It was thin but noticeable. Asha fought to wipe the shocked expression from her face and tamp down her fear. She focussed on what came naturally to her - lying.

"Oh!" she laughed, "that! I scraped my back on a nail a couple summers ago. I usually hide it with a concealment charm - it must've worn off."

"Ouch!" replied Alisha, while Jules and Rachel grimaced. Maive, however, looked at Asha suspiciously but eventually returned to digging her tie out of her trunk.

Asha quietly cast a concealment charm on the scar, causing her skin to resemble its usual smooth, fair appearance. She then forced herself to finish dressing and follow the girls up to the Great Hall pretending nothing was out of the ordinary.

*

In the days following, despite taking Snape's potion for dreamless sleep, Asha woke up only to find herself utterly exhausted. Fatigue plagued every fibre in her body. She felt stressed and on-edge all the time. It took all her willpower just to show up for classes and she had no patience for social interaction.

Unfortunately, Asha's classmates had noticed her sudden change in behaviour and were using every free moment to badger her about it (classic Hufflepuffs). Asha knew they were only concerned and wanting to help, but she _hated_ it. Her mind was too overloaded as it was, without the endless yammering of her roommates. She just wanted to be left alone. That's why one lunch break Asha found herself bursting through the door of the potions classroom. Snape looked up from his desk. His initially irritated expression turned blank when he realised who it was. Asha peeked outside, checking the girls hadn't followed her, before closing the door.

"Winters," Snape began slowly, "what-"

"Please just pretend I'm not here," Asha interrupted. Her voice was strong and emotionless but failed to cover up her tiredness.

Frowning heavily, Severus said nothing. His dark eyes followed Asha closely as she sank into a chair in the back corner. She dropped her bag onto the desk and lay her head on it like a pillow. Severus could no longer see her face but he could sense the tension in her body. He opened his mouth to speak but Asha beat him to it.

"Don't, _"_ she cut him off sharply, willing him to understand that she was only there to seek refuge. After a minute or so, she heard the rustling of paper and the scratching of quill on parchment. Mercifully, Snape had returned to marking homework. In the week following, Asha returned to the classroom during lunch break a few more times. She and Snape had reached an unspoken agreement that she could have an hour's respite while he refrained from asking questions, or even acknowledging her presence. Though they didn't interact, Asha quietly appreciated his strong, calming presence.

Unfortunately, this arrangement did not last long. Asha's thoughts were becoming cloudy and disconnected and brewing potions soon became impossible. During Snape's classes, she could hardly concentrate long enough to read the instructions. Every lesson she was forced to restart multiple times and ran out of time to finish. On a Monday afternoon, she found herself so frustrated and defeated that she vanished the contents of her cauldron, picked up her bag and walked straight out of the classroom. Snape came billowing after her and grabbed her arm.

"Why do I have to keep reminding you that you are not above the rules?" he hissed angrily.

Asha wrenched herself from his grip and continued walking.

"Such insolence is _not_ tolerated in this school, no matter the circumstances!" he called after her, "Detention this evening, Winters!"

Asha did not attend. In fact, that was the last time she graced the potions class with her presence. From then on, she added Snape to the long list of people she was avoiding. She began to spend most of her waking hours skipping classes and hunkering down on the icy shores of the Black Lake.

After a week of truancy, missing multiple meals and avoiding talking to anyone, Asha found herself bent over the bathroom sink. She knew she would not be able to continue like this. The professors would catch up to her eventually. She would be expelled. But nor could she pull herself together. Her mind was constantly swimming. _Why was she plagued by unmemorable nightmares? Why did she have knowledge she had never obtained? Why could she uncontrollably perform powerful wandless magic? How could she be a Parselmouth? Why did she feel so fucked up? What was WRONG with her?_

Shaking with emotion, Asha looked into the bathroom mirror. Apart from the dark shadows that circled her eyes, her skin was ghostly white. For the millionth time, she thought of the mysterious scar on her back. Confusion and hopelessness seared through her. All she craved was to escape from this hell that was writhing inside her. _She_ _needed_ _a drink_. Immediately she thought of Hagrid's cellar, but she had already broken into it last night and found no Firewhisky. In desperation, she suddenly remembered the passageway between Honeydukes and Hogwarts that Filch had led her down after finding her in the Three Broomsticks. _She would surely be able to break past the statue of the one-eyed Witch without a password._

It was the middle of first period, so Asha jogged silently down the empty corridors until she arrived at the statue. She stood there for what seemed like an hour attempting every unlocking and enchantment-disintegrating spell she knew. Just as distress threatened to overwhelm her, a voice sounded from just over her shoulder.

"Ah yes," - she jumped in surprise and spun around - "I see you are familiar with our lovely secret passageway."

Stood either side of her were Fred and George Weasley. They both had their hands behind their backs and mischievous smiles on their faces.

"Do you know the password?" Asha asked desperately, "fucking Filch failed to mention it to me."

"Well, I'm not surprised," beamed one of the twins - Asha had a feeling it was Fred. "You said it yourself; he's Fucking Filch, not Friendly, Forgiving, Fast-route-to-Hogsmeade-sharing Filch. Though now I think about it, I'm not sure your name for him is any more accurate."

Asha stared at him in bewilderment.

"And why yes, we do know the password," he added.

"And we would be glad to share it with a fellow Hogwartian in need," grinned George.

"And you certainly look... in need," said Fred, alluding to how stressed and unwell Asha looked. Relief and gratitude plastered her face. "But," he warned, "you've got to swear not to tell anyone. If too many people know about the passageway, you can bet Filch will find out and sealed it."

"I'm good at keeping secrets," Asha assured them.

"Good!" smiled George, before stepping towards the statue; " _Dissendium._ "

The witch's hump slid aside to reveal the tunnel. In her fragile state, Asha almost began to tear-up with relief.

"Oh, and this may come in handy," said Fred, rummaging in his pockets until he pulled out an unfamiliar object and handed it to Asha.

"Er... okay," she said, cautiously taking it from him. Upon closer inspection, she realised it resembled a small, black air horn. From the energy she could feel radiating into her palm, she could tell that it harboured a fair amount of magic.

"That, my friend, is a Decoy Detonator," explained George, "designed by yours truly."

"Riiiiight," said Asha, doubtfully raising an eyebrow.

"This particular prototype has yet to be tested in the field," he grinned.

"Just drop it on the ground next to you, and it should create an effective diversion," explained Fred.

"If it does what it's supposed to, that is," added George. "This one's yours for free if you let us know how it goes."

"Yeah, alright," Asha replied, now impatient to get going, "Thanks."

"Have a safe trip!" chimed the twins, as Asha slid into the passage and the door closed behind her.

This time it took over ten minutes to reach the end of the passage, meaning Filch still knew some secret the twins didn't, allowing him to activate the geographical compression enchantment. Before exiting the passage, Asha cast a disillusionment charm over herself. It certainly didn't make her invisible but it made her a lot less noticeable.

Honeydukes was near empty as she snuck up the cellar steps and out through the shop door. Her Converse quickly became soaked with icy water as she left deep footprints in the snow-covered path. She was so consumed in her hazy, racing thoughts that she hardly noticed the biting cold.

The High Street of Hogsmeade was relatively quiet and the Three Broomsticks was practically deserted given that it was only around 10 am. Peeking through a frosty window, Asha saw only two people in the pub: the landlady standing behind the bar, and a grey-haired wizard who sat drinking opposite her. Asha cast a muffling spell and waited until both occupants had their backs turned before slipping through the door. She crouched down, still holding the Decoy Detonator and hesitated. She knew Fred and George were talented wizards, but if this went wrong she could be in some serious trouble. In a surge of reckless abandon, she dropped the Detonator onto the tiled floor. Immediately the miniature airhorn sprouted legs and scuttled silently across the pub. It ran straight past the bar, beelining for the ajar door of the storeroom where it disappeared from sight. Asha held her breath.

_BANG!_

The landlady shrieked and dropped the glass she was polishing. It shattered on the floor. The wizard (in a somewhat delayed reaction) lurched to his feet and pulled out his wand. Clouds of thick, black smoke drifted out of the storeroom.

In a poorly considered attempt at gallantry, the wizard slurred: "Stay back, Rosmerta! I'll protect you!" as he stumbled into the room.

"Mr Alderton, I don't think that is wise!" called Rosmerta sharply, pulling out her own wand. The smashing of numerous bottles sounded from the smoke-filled room, followed by a yell. "For Merlin's sake!" Rosmerta cursed, hurrying in after him.

Realising it was now or never, Asha jumped to her feet and ran to the bar, vaulting over the counter. Lining the shelves behind it was the largest selection of spirits she had ever seen. Immediately her eyes were drawn to a pale-blue bottle located on the far right. Knowing this wasn't the time to mull over her options, she _accioed_ the bottle, lept back over the counter and raced out the door.

Rounding a corner into a secluded sidestreet, Asha came to a halt and leaned her back against the brick wall of Dervish and Banges, panting. The feeling of being wide awake, 'in the moment' and _alive_ almost made her grin. Using her wand, she enlarged the inner dimensions of a pocket of her school robes and stowed the alcohol before sneaking back through Honeydukes and into the passageway.

She emerged from the one-eyed witch just in time. Seconds later, the bell rang and students flooded out into the third-floor corridor for morning break. Asha was consumed by the deafening chatter. She folded her arms and leaned beside the statue, waiting for the crowd to subside. Mad-Eye Moody came limping out of a classroom. Asha glanced at him and then did a double-take. Her heart skipped a beat. His magical eye was aimed directly at the pocket of her robe that contained her liquor. Asha met Moody's normal eye. After what felt like an eternity, he lifted a hand and tapped the side of his disfigured nose with his index finger, winked and limped away. Asha released the breath she'd been holding.

Crossing a moving staircase, Asha blended in with the swarms of students, making her way to the Astronomy Tower where she knew she would be able to drink in peace. What she didn't notice was that someone was following her...

Severus Snape walked through the corridors, glaring at students as they scurried out of his path. He was returning to the dungeons from Madam Pomfrey's office. As Severus reached the Grand Staircase, out of the corner of his eye he spotted a flash of Asha's long, dark hair. He'd kept an eye out for her ever since she'd stopped attending his classes. Since then, he'd only caught glimpses of her. He needed to talk to her. Severus sharply turned his head in the direction he thought he had glimpsed the girl and scanned the mass of students. For a second, he thought he must have imagined it. Then he saw her. She was lacking her usual confident, graceful movements. Her head was bowed as she sped down a lower staircase and disappeared through an archway, heading towards the library.

The potions master strode after her, sweeping through the castle even more briskly than usual. He rounded a corner just in time to see her slip through a heavy wooden door at the end of the corridor. Severus clenched his jaw in exasperation. _Of course_ she was going up the Astronomy Tower - one of the few places in the castle that was out-of-bounds except for during classes. The door swung open with a silent flick of his wand and he began to ascend the spiralling staircase.

Asha was shaking by the time she reached the top of the tower. Her exhausted body was not equipt for the mildly strenuous climb. The snow-covered landscape that was visible from the balcony was both nostalgic and unfamiliar. The last time she'd been up here was during summer. That felt like a lifetime ago. Back then she had been happy, strong-willed and herself. _Now..._ Asha felt the prickling threat of tears and hastily drew the pale-blue bottle from her pocket. The label told her it was gin. Desperate to escape from all thoughts, feelings and reality, she unscrewed the cap with a shaky hand and took a large swig.

As soon as the bitter liquid hit the back of Asha's throat she experienced a powerful wave of familiarity followed by an electric shock that coursed through every cell in her body. The sensation was so intense that she failed to notice the door behind her swing open. She choked on the alcohol and dropped the bottle. It smashed on the stone floor sending liquid spraying in all directions.

"You _cannot_ be serious," snarled Snape.

Asha didn't even hear him. She stumbled and braced herself on the balcony railing. A second wave of the indescribable sensation crashed over her as the smell of gin filled the air. _She knew that smell._ She couldn't think properly. Emotions bubbled inside her from somewhere she didn't know existed. _Was she going insane?_ No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't form coherent thoughts. It was terrifying.

Suddenly the scent vanished. The feeling of static electricity in Asha's mind ceased and her senses returned. She realised Snape had magically removed all remnants of the broken glass and liquor. She turned to face him, still gripping the bannister behind her as her legs threatened to give way. Snape's flowing cloak draped over his arms as he folded them and glared at Asha with an infuriated expression.

"How much have you had to drink?" he demanded, quiet yet deadly.

"Wh-what?" Asha croaked. She was too shocked and muddled to comprehend his thought process.

" _Winters!"_ he snapped, taking a step closer, "Are you _actually_ attempting to convince me otherwise of something I have just witnessed with my own eyes? I have just watched you take a swig of hard liquor and in the process become disoriented to such an extent that you dropped the substance. And now you have the nerve to stand in front of me; hardly keep yourself upright, unable to focus your eyes and -"

He stopped suddenly and stiffened. Asha heard it too. A second later, the door swung open and Professor Sinistra strolled through with a trail of two dozen telescopes bobbing in after her.

"Oh my!" she started, "apologies Professor Snape, I didn't expect to see anyone up here." She seemed uncomfortable in his austere presence. Snape turned and purposefully positioned himself between the short witch and Asha, presumably so Sinistra couldn't get a direct view of Asha in her 'inebriated' state. Before Snape could respond, Sinistra began to ramble nervously, saying, "Since the weather today is looking fine, I thought I'd set up early for my class tonight. It's going to be-"

"I've just found a student up here, Aurora," Snape interrupted cooly, causing the witch to flinch. "I suggested you lock this door in the future to keep this from happening again." Then he turned his back to her and pointed an arm at the door. " _Out,_ " he barked at Asha, still careful to continue obscuring Sinistra's view of her. 


End file.
